LIFE CHANGES
by DarcyDeFirth
Summary: COMPLETE
1. PROLOGUE

The morning of Elizabeth's twentieth birthday dawned a bright and glorious November day and ordinarily she would have thrown the covers off without a second's thought, eager to dress and be on her way for a quick walk before breakfast. Knowing her mother, it was probable that it would be her last chance to escape the confines of Longbourn for the rest of the day. When hosting a large dinner party her mother's nerves usually reached a fever pitch and sensible daughters found it expedient to remain close at hand with an abundant supply of smelling salts. Instead of rising, she burrowed deeper under the covers unwilling to begin the day. 

A strange malaise had been gripping her lately and she couldn't seem to shake it. She knew that her lowered spirits were due in part because she no longer had her dear friend Charlotte Lucas to confide in and Jane would be leaving for London on the morrow for a few weeks with their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. The days approaching the Christmas holidays would hold no pleasure for her. Not even the expected arrival of the militia near Meryton could raise her interest. That was left to her youngest sisters who spoke of nothing but red coats and officers. It didn't help her mood that her mother encouraged them in discussions that bordered on the obscene.

Disgusted with the direction of her thoughts, Elizabeth finally threw off the covers and dressed quickly. She slipped out the back door and ran towards the gate to their estate fearing at any moment that her mother would spy her and call her back. Winter was fast approaching and it was only a question of time before her walks down the familiar lanes would be severely curtailed and she was loathe to let one opportunity to pass.

The icy air hurried her steps down the road towards Meryton thinking forward to the evening's festivities. Mercifully, though they dined with four and twenty families, they didn't do it all at once so their party wouldn't be too large. All told, there would be twenty relatives and friends sharing a sumptuous feast of seven courses which would take at least three hours to consume. Elizabeth had pleaded with her mother to limit the dinner to four courses but as usual was ignored. Mrs. Bennet took great pride in never stinting in her hospitality or in clothing her five daughters in the finest fabrics. Elizabeth, just the evening before had been presented with a new gown in the softest silk the color of spring lilacs with ribbons and slippers to match. It was too extravagant an expenditure and her pleasure was laced with guilt, adding to her disquiet.

As long as she could remember at least once a day the household was reminded that the estate was entailed away from the female line. When her father passed away not only would they lose the only home they'd ever known but would be forced to live on the interest of her mother's marriage settlement, a mere five thousand pounds. Compared to the twenty five hundred pound income that they now enjoyed they would be living at a poverty level. How would a very silly woman and her five daughters survive on two hundred pounds a year interest was an ever constant source of despair for her mother but she refused to rein in her expenses. And lately this refusal to prepare for the future had begun to leave it's mark on Elizabeth. Two months earlier she had come face to face with the fate awaiting a genteel but impoverished gentlewoman.

Her pace slowed and finally stopped as she approached the turnoff to Lucas Lodge thinking of her dearest friend Charlotte Lucas, who was now far away from her family in service as a governess in far off Norfolk. Clever, intelligent but very plain and poor Charlotte was now relegated to the humiliation of tending to the needs of children not her own. Elizabeth felt her anger and frustration rising as sharply as it had the day she had bid her friend farewell and watched her carriage begin a journey which would carry her half a country away never knowing if she'd ever see Charlotte again. Life was so unfair to women in England. So many rules imposed upon them by males. As the daughter of a knight, it would bring shame to the family if Charlotte rented a room in London and took a job in trade but it was perfectly acceptable to be sent to live in a family of strangers as a paid servant. The more she saw of life and a woman's place in it's structure, she could not see herself ever connecting with a man who could so subjugate her and take away her right to think. Recently she had begun to think of herself as growing old and alone with a dozen cats to keep her company. The thought gave her no pleasure.

She managed a wry smile at the silliness of her musings and turned back towards Longbourn, now chilled to the bone. She moved quickly as if to escape the memories of the past when life seemed so simple and uncomplicated...when she was still a child. She would not be sad on this day. She would wear her beautiful gown and smile and be gracious to her friends. She would pace herself through seven courses of rich food and try not to explode. And most of all, she must appear in high spirits for Jane's sake. She knew her sister sensed something wrong though Elizabeth steadfastly denied it. She would not have Jane feeling anxious thereby destroying her pleasure in the next few weeks. Indeed, it was Elizabeth's fondest wish that Jane might meet with a gentleman who would look beyond her lack of dowry and see her for the lovely woman she was. In a few short months Jane herself would be celebrating a birthday. She would be two and twenty years old and by her mother's standards beginning to dry on the vine.

By afternoon her spirits had rebounded somewhat due to the pleasure of spending time with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. Next to her father and sister Jane, the Gardiners were her favorite people. They, more than their parents had molded both Elizabeth and Jane into the young ladies they'd become. More by exposure than instruction they had learned the ways of gentlewomen and never feared that they would ever appear as less despite their lack of title or dowry.

The evening began happily enough as an occasion full of light-hearted gaiety. The gifts of books from her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner were much appreciated, the beautifully embroidered handkerchiefs from Jane were delightful, the slippers from Mary were just the right shade of fresh-cut lemons. The five pound note from her father was a wonderful surprise and though the box of sweets given by her two youngest sisters was consumed by them before the evening was half over, it was the thought that counted. On this day she refused to condemn Kitty and Lydia as two of the silliest and most selfish young women in Hertfordshire.

The dinner was a splendid affair much enjoyed by all and the sherry trifle pronounced as perfectly blended as a sherry trifle could be. When the ladies returned to the drawing room to await the men she was happy to hear that as the guest of honor she would be relieved of the onerous duty of serving coffee to her guests.

She moved about the room once more thanking her guests for their lovely gifts of ribbons, laces and scarves half-listening to the ladies of Hertfordshire discuss the latest fashions, the girls discussing the arrival of the militia, and the men waxing poetic about the prowess of their hunting dogs. The only sense she heard for the rest of the evening was from her father and the Gardiners and her darling sister, Jane. The morning which had started with less than great promise had descended into boredom and distraction and she could not account for these low spirits. All she did know was that she wanted nothing more than for the guests to be gone so she could seek the solitude of her own room.

The following day Jane left with the Gardiners for their London home. There she would spend the next several weeks and not return until shortly before Christmas. Before the carriage was even out of her sight Elizabeth missed her sister sorely. She now would not hear a moment of sense except from her father who spent most of his time locked away in his study with his beloved books.

Elizabeth would not admit even to herself that the event of her twentieth birthday had marked the beginning of a depression that colored her every waking moment. It took all her strength to pretend that all was right in her world when it wasn't. In her imaginings her restlessness took the form of a living entity which threatened to suck the last breath from her body. She continued taking her long walks each day desperately hoping to cast off her feelings of disquiet but took little pleasure in her meanderings. Not even the silliness of her three younger sisters could get a rise out of her beyond the usual resignation. Even her father's satiric humor seemed rather cruel at times.

During breakfast three weeks after her party Mr. Bennet said to his wife, "I hope, my dear, that you have ordered a particularly good dinner for tonight because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party."

"Who do you mean, my dear?"

"The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger."

Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. "A gentleman and a stranger! Is he single or married?"

"Quite single, my dear, and heir to a very nice estate."

By the twinkle in her father's eye, Elizabeth suspected that he was having a bit of fun at her mother's expense and waited silently for the ax to fall.

Mrs. Bennet's excitement grew. "How wonderful for our girls."

"How so? How can it affect them?"

"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them"

"You would have him marry one of our daughters before you even lay eyes on this stranger? Before you even know his name? I declare Mrs. Bennet that this eagerness shows little regard for our five daughters though I will admit that our offspring have little to recommend them. They are all silly and ignorant like other girls though I own that my Lizzie has a quickness that I admire." He smiled at Elizabeth who returned it with some difficulty.

"Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves."

At the mention of her nerves, Mr. Bennet gave up the game and finally explained to his family that their visitor would be none other than an estranged cousin who would one day inherit Longbourn by way of an entailment to the male line. "His name is William Collins and he is the pastor of Hunsford village in Kent."

Mrs. Bennet's reaction to this news was bitter and loud. This man had the power to throw her family out of their home to starve in the hedgerows upon Mr. Bennet's demise and she would not have him in her house The two youngest girls reacted with disgust and accused their father of cruelty for getting their hopes up. They had no interest in connecting themselves with a simple parson, not with the militia due to arrive in town within a fortnight. Mary, the middle girl, grew thoughtful and Elizabeth had no thought on the subject at all.

Once Mr. Bennet explained that Mr. Collins was coming to see them because he was in need of a wife, Mrs. Bennet calmed down and went to the kitchen and instructed the cook to go to market and create a feast befitting a future son-in-law.

Life in the Bennet household had never been one of quiet and repose, conducive to deep thought. The constant squabbling between her two youngest sisters and the hours of practice by Mary on the pianoforte left Elizabeth's ears ringing and her nerves on edge. Then there was her mother with her high-pitched whining about her fate in life. She had given birth to five daughters when just one son would have suited her fine. There was the usual teasing by Mr. Bennet which invariably sent Mrs. Bennet into feigned hysterics due to her nerves. And so it went until that momentous day when their cousin William Collins left his humble abode at Hunsford Parsonage in Kent and landed on their doorstep in want of a wife. In later days Elizabeth would look back on the those pre-visitor days as golden for once their cousin arrived to take up residence with them for a fortnight, life at Longbourn slipped sideways.

During the first course of a splendid three course meal prepared especially for their visitor William Collins proved to be lacking in any intellectual acuity. He was a dullard of the first rank. When he described in glowing terms how his humble abode was separated only by a narrow lane from his esteemed patroness, even Lydia, the youngest and silliness Bennet sister, rolled her eyes. When he went on to tell his hosts that he had counted one hundred and sixty-five windows in that august residence before losing count, Kitty went into a spasm of coughing. William Collins proved to be a man who possessed that delicate balance of humility and pomposity with a generous dose of stupidity thrown in for good measure.

The day after his arrival he made it clear that he indeed was in want of a wife. His patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh demanded it. Fortunately for Jane, she was in London visiting with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and so was out of the reach of Mr. Collins. Lizzie, who was next in age and beauty was elected but declined. Once the dust had settled with this refusal, it fell to Mary to save the family from starving in the hedgerows when Mr. Bennet went to a better place. To the shock and chagrin of Elizabeth, Mary accepted his offer of marriage with alacrity and satisfaction.

Elizabeth neither liked nor disliked her sister Mary and the feeling was mutual. They had absolutely nothing in common. Where Lizzie was well read and found the art of learning a joy and could never have enough of it, Mary was mired in the moralizing of Fordyces's Sermons. The very idea that a woman should subjugate herself to male preferences was bad enough but to encourage feminine mannerliness of speech, action, and appearance over substantive development of ideas was horrific and had no place in Lizzie's world. Lizzie could not remember a conversation with Mary that hadn't ended with a homily which more times than not was a non sequitur. It was Lizzie's contention that each night Mary memorized a moral, then waited with baited breath for an appropriate moment to drop said moral with, too often, a patronizing glance. Mr. Bennet would continue to chew his meat, Mrs. Bennet would blink rapidly, Kitty would cough and Lydia would snort and either Jane or Elizabeth would offer a "thank you, Mary". This seemed a satisfactory reception to the offering and pleased Mary who mercifully once more would lapse into silence. It never occurred to her middle sister that she seldom made sense.

That her sister would accept this man finally broke the shell Elizabeth had been erecting around herself. She begged and pleaded with Mary to reconsider but every argument she offered went unheeded. Indeed, to Elizabeth's way of thinking Mary's reaction to Lizzie's pleas was extraordinary. She was neither amused nor angry but showed only mild confusion. "My dear sister, can't you see the pleasure I will be giving to my family? Mother need never fear losing a roof over her head. No matter what happens now, our family will be safe. And if I'm fortunate to have a son, all our family will be secure perhaps for generations."

Elizabeth blanched at the thought of her sister giving birth to a child sired by William Collins. As a modest young lady of her times she knew very little of what took place between husband and wife but she was quite sure it would be an unpleasant affair if the man was plump, neglectful of hygiene and downright stupid.

But Mary would marry him and leave Longbourn and make her home in Kent and Elizabeth knew with a certainty that their lives would never be the same.


	2. Mary leaves the nest

The date for Mary's wedding was set for the week before Christmas. It seemed like such a rushed up affair but Mr. Collins could not be away from his church on Christmas day. Who could deliver the most important sermon of the year? Mr. Collins had been writing down his thoughts since the previous Christmas morn and he would not be denied this honor. And they dare not put the wedding off much later as the weather could be quite inclement at that time of the year. 

As Mary's wedding neared Elizabeth spent more time with her sister trying to come to terms with her choice. She no longer allowed herself the pleasure of casting aspersions on her future brother-in-law but accepted it as something that would come to pass before the year was out. Resigned, she spent hours in her sister's room attaching ribbons and bits of lace to Mary's dresses--some of which she'd never worn...as being too fancy for her taste. At first Mary rejected any change in her appearance but Elizabeth soon convinced her that her husband with his important position in Kent deserved a wife who would make him proud and that it was her duty to please Lady Catherine. Mary could not argue Elizabeth's reasoning and allowed her hair to be cut and evened out. The sisters whiled away the hours with various attempts to manage Mary's straight hair into exotic styles that had both girls collapsing in gales of laughter at the comical results of their labor. But slowly another young woman began to emerge, a softer and prettier girl. Mary would never be a beauty but she was less plain and Elizabeth suspected that Mary enjoyed the change in her appearance.

Something remarkable began to happen once Elizabeth resigned herself to Mary's fate. Her introspection lessoned as she focused on her sister's future which to Elizabeth appeared to be be bleak indeed. She was elected as chaperon so followed the happy couple everywhere they went. Never once did she see even a sign of affection. They walked well away from each other and though she deliberately stayed close and endeavored to listen to their conversation she never once heard anything of a personal nature. Indeed, most of what she heard was from William Collins and it invariably had to do with his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh.

According to Mr. Collins, Lady Catherine took a prodigious amount of interest in the goings on of her village and in particular, the Hunsford Parsonage. She was even generous enough to edit his sermons so the peasants of the shire could better grasp the moral of his homily. There was absolutely nothing that escaped her attention from the shelves in the parsonage closet to the amount of ale a peasant should imbibe during the course of a week. The final straw was when Mr. Collins gave his patroness great praise as being a musical genius though Lady Catherine had never bothered to learn to play any instrument.

Elizabeth shook her head at this information. Lady Catherine sounded like a nosy windbag who could quickly stretch the patience of a sensible person. How Mr. Collins had managed to get such a rich position made more sense now. All one had to do was apply to the local seminary and hire the stupidest, most malleable student in the school. Elizabeth suspected that the peasants would be a lot happier under her ladyship's rule if they were dead drunk seven days a week. She shuddered to think of what the Sunday sermons must be like shut up in a stuffy chapel for two hours listening to a sermon written by a windbag and an idiot. And this was the man whom her sister was tying herself to for the rest of her life.

Elizabeth knew little of courtship. She couldn't remember ever seeing an engaged couple in the small town of Meryton. Most of the girls she knew were much younger than either Elizabeth or Jane. Jane's one and only courtship had taken place while Jane had been visiting the Gardiners in London when she was but sixteen. It hadn't lasted long once her suitor realized that her dowry was non-existent. Beyond the young farmers she had known all her life there were no eligible suitors as most of the younger sons left the area to seek their fortunes as soon as they reached their majority. The eldest son was left to carry on the management of the family estate whether he wanted to or not. There was only one estate in the area which had been vacant for the last three years and it was every mother's hope that a nice eligible man would eventually buy it and bring fresh blood to the area. So far their hopes had been in vain. Netherfield Park remained empty and in dire need of a handsome gentleman to take up residence. Mothers all around had their hopes raised several months earlier when word got out that two handsome young gentlemen had viewed the estate and had seemed very pleased, but it had all come to naught. They had never returned.

Elizabeth had never been in love. She doubted if she'd even recognize the feeling. The only romance she knew came from the novels she read between tomes of biographies, literature and history. In novels, the handsome hero always carried the heroine off in the last page but never mentioned what happened after the last page. What exactly married love entailed was left to her imagination based on what she knew of her parent's and their friend's marriages. There was of course the Gardiner's marriage but she feared that was the exception and not the rule.

As for the mechanics of married love, being a farmer's daughter she had seen the coupling of animals in the fields and sincerely hoped this was not in store for poor Mary. She tried not to think of their wedding night but black thoughts would intrude, mercifully fading at the moment Mr. Collins entered his bride's room, no doubt wearing a voluminous black nightshirt and wearing his parson's hat.

Eventually Mr. Collins left Hertfordshire to procure the necessary papers that would allow him to marry out of his own parish. And there were the legal papers setting out the terms of the marriage which would do very well for Mary. It was advised by Lady Catherine that the settlement be generous as she didn't hold with a wife who was at the mercy of her husband. This information made Elizabeth revise her opinion of Lady Catherine somewhat. Added to that if she delivered up a son she would be considered extremely well-off in comparison to the ladies in and around Meryton. For her own sanity Elizabeth had to look at the positive side of this union and not dwell on it's nightmarish aspects difficult as that was.

After Mr. Collin's departure Elizabeth and Mary spent more time together rekindling the earlier friendship they had enjoyed before Mary got religion. To Elizabeth's surprise she grew quite fond of her younger sister and prayed for her happiness. All things considered, there was a good chance that she would be reasonably happy with her own home, living with a man of means. She did not seem to recognize that the man was a hypocrite when it came to his ideas of what a clergyman should provide to his flock. Mary thought that all men were equal in the eyes of God. Mr. Collins agreed with the exception of the lower classes who had better not try to look higher.

A week before Christmas Jane and the Gardiners returned for the wedding and finally Elizabeth was able to walk into town for her own pleasure. The militia had finally arrived in the area and according to Lydia and Kitty, that were the handsomest men in the world. Elizabeth decided to check it out for herself.

When she reached Meryton she immediately headed for the bookstore and spent twenty minutes browsing through the new books and making her selections.

When she heard the shrill voice of her sister Lydia calling from half-way down the street her attention was drawn to the window. Elizabeth looked out and saw two officers standing just a few feet away. She recognized one of the officers as Lieutenant Denny an officer she had met a week earlier but the other was a stranger. Denny leaned close to this stranger and whispered something that seemed to amuse the stranger greatly and he whispered something back which caused both officers to laugh hardily. Elizabeth could of course not hear what they were saying but she suspected the worst as she saw the men exchange another sly look before stepping forward to greet Lydia and Kitty.

Elizabeth stepped back from the window and continued to browse ignoring the scene outside. She was mortified. Her aunt Gardiner had warned her about the rough ways of soldiers and seamen. It didn't matter whether they were officers or not. It was incumbent upon young ladies that their deportment be above reproach or they would be looked upon as fair game. Her sisters were acting like loose women. Their giddy laughter could be clearly heard in the shop. Elizabeth dared one more glance out the window and saw her sisters clutching the officer's arms as they made their way down to the other end of town. When she was sure she would be unobserved she left the shop and headed back to Longbourn as quickly as she could. She was on the verge of tears by the time she reached home.

She tore her hat off and went directly to her father's study and rapped loudly then entered without waiting for a reply. Mr. Bennet looked up in alarm seeing his favorite daughter in such a state. "My dear," he cried, "what is it? Are you hurt?"

Still out of breath from the hurried journey from town Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm well," she gasped. "It's my sisters who've undone me."

Mr. Bennet immediately relaxed. "Oh, those two. What have they done now?"

"They've have been doing a great impression of Kate Winslow," she spat.

Elizabeth's reference to the local prostitute shocked Mr. Bennet and his eyes flared wide. "Have a care, daughter."

"Forgive me, Papa, but you would be better advised to address your youngest daughters on having a care. Their comportment is scandalous. Screaming after the officers. Completely devoid of common manners. I was humiliated in town. And I can just imagine what those soldiers must think of those two. Oh, papa, I beg of you, please talk to them. Mama just encourages them. They will destroy us all. Jane and I have little enough to recommend us but to have two very silly sisters who throw themselves at every redcoat in town is agony."

Mr. Bennet listened attentively until Elizabeth lapsed into a disheartened silence. "My dear child, wherever you and Jane are known, you must be respected and valued and will not be seen at a disadvantage despite having two very silly sisters."

"No man in his right mind will connect themselves with a family whose daughters run wild; who run after every creature who wears long pants."

Mr Bennet laughed at the picture his favorite daughter was painting. Come now, Lizzy, no man in his right mind would take either of your younger sisters seriously. They are much too young and foolish."

Elizabeth was stunned. "Papa! Kitty is seventeen years old and Lydia is nearly sixteen. They are both of marriageable age. Can't you see how their deportment could effect their chances as well mine and Jane's?"

"What would you have me do, Lizzy? Lock them up until they can say something sensible during the course of a day?"

"That would be a start, Papa. Or at least you could stop laughing at their silliness and take them to task. They're loud and rude. Have you never noticed the way they barge right into an adult's conversation without a by your leave? How they monopolize the conversation with their talk of redcoats?"

"Lizzy, your mother runs the household. Speak to her."

"She won't listen to me. She's just as excited over the officers as Lydia and Kitty are. Besides, right now all she can think of is consigning her middle daughter to a life of misery and spending all our money to do so."

Mr. Bennet sighed heavily. "You begin to weary me, child. You've disturbed my peace long enough."

Elizabeth was shocked. "Is that all you can say, Papa? Have you not heard me?"

Her father opened his book and waved her away.

Dismissed, Elizabeth went to the door, then turned and gazed at this man she adored. The happiest days of her childhood had been spent in this very room with this man who had opened the world to her. For countless hours he had taught her to read and understand the meaning as well as the words. So many discussions, so many arguments, so much joy as she learned of the world beyond Meryton. She felt her heart break as she realized she didn't know him at all. He was a stranger to her.

Elizabeth was the only member of the Bennet family to weep openly as her sister Mary attached herself to William Collins in holy wedlock. She wasn't sure just who she was weeping for but she suspected it was for herself. She saw her future before her. Married to some idiot while her family and friends smiled and offered congratulations to her mother. She was right back where she was on her twentieth birthday. Deep into depression.

Her poor sister Mary was so moved by Elizabeth's tears, that she asked Mr. Collins and was granted permission for Elizabeth to visit their home in Kent in April. Hardly knowing what she was agreeing to, Elizabeth accepted the invitation. She really didn't care where she went as long as it was far away from Longbourn.

After the newlyweds left, the wedding party continued with the addition of the officers. Among the officers who straggled in over the course of the next two hours was the the young man she'd seen in town with Lieutenant Denny. Introductions were made and Elizabeth finally had her first good look at Lieutenant George Wickham. There had not been a day that went by without a mention of him by her sisters. They had described him as handsome and charming with gentlemanly manners. He was all of that.

His hair was the color of corn silk, his eyes of the palest blue. There was something angelic about his face and Elizabeth could well understand her younger sisters being smitten with him. In many ways he reminded her of her sister Jane; the same coloring, the same grace as he moved about the room.

Elizabeth had been standing alone near the edge of the room distancing herself from the rest of the party and had been watching him as unobtrusively as possible from the moment he had entered the room. When he finally made his way to her with Lydia clutching his arm possessively she acknowledge him with a brief smile. "I understand you hail from Derbyshire, Lieutenant Wickham."

"Indeed," he replied with a gentle smile. "I was born there on a beautiful estate and spent an idyllic childhood there."

"Do you get back there often?"

"Unfortunately, no. You see, Miss Bennet, my father was only the steward of Pemberley. Do you know Pemberley?"

"I think I might have heard of it recently from my new brother-in-law. His patroness is Lady Catherine De Bourgh who lives on an estate in Kent. Do you know her?"

"Indeed I do. She is the aunt of Fitzwilliam Darcy, the current master of Pemberley."

"I see."

"His father, who was my godfather and the best of men died several years ago. I have not been back to Pemberley since."

"The army keeps you busy, then."

"Uh, well not exactly, Miss Bennet,..."

Lieutenant Denny approached, "excuse us, Miss Bennet, but it's time we all return to camp."

"Ah, duty calls," said Wickham with a charming smile.

Elizabeth returned his smile and bid both officers goodbye with no regret. However, she noticed her sister Jane with a wistful smile on her face as she waved farewell to the gentlemen, in particular, Lieutenant Wickham. She looked radiant. "Jane," Elizabeth teased, "are you in love?"

Jane laughed, "not yet,Lizzy, but you must admit he is everything a young man ought to be. Sensible, good-humored and with such happy manners."

"He's handsome to be sure, but I'm not sure I can trust him."

"Whatever do you mean, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth described what she had seen in Meryton.

"Oh Lizzy, you admit you didn't hear what they said."

"I will admit it, Jane. But it left me uneasy. And a young man who leaves a lady feeling uneasy is not to be trusted. That's a rule I live by.

Elizabeth felt truly sorry for delivering this sad news to her sister but it was bad enough that her younger sisters wouldn't listen to reason, she certainly needed to warn Jane to be extra cautious around Mr. Wickham or any of the officers for that matter. She loved her sister dearly but Jane had not a cynical bone in her body which could be a dangerous weakness in such a beautiful woman.

It was times like this that she sorely missed Charlotte. Not even Jane could take the place of her best friend as a confidante. Charlotte would have been able to tease her out of the doldrums, might have even been able to convince her that the years ahead were not destined to be as bleak as she expected. After all, she had something to look forward to. The Gardiners had invited her to spend a month with them in London and she was to return with them after the Christmas festivities. Then, in the Spring, she would travel to Kent which held no contemplation of pleasure, but at least she would get away from Hertfordshire for another six weeks.

When she returned to her room later that evening, she resolved to think no more of the future but to let it unfold and make the most of it. With that resolve in mind, she fell into a deep sleep and shed not one tear.


	3. LONDON LUNCH

The dining room of Darcy's favorite club was nearly empty by the time Darcy pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair to regard his friend, Charles Bingley. While Darcy had labored at Pemberley making sure that the estate was running smoothly enough for him to leave for several months, Bingley had been tripping the light fantastic at every ball and assembly in England. Darcy hadn't seen his friend since the Christmas holidays when Bingley had been in his usual high spirits enumerating with great enthusiasm the many delights a man could enjoy by being in the company of a beautiful woman. Four months had passed with Bingley's monthly reports blotted and almost indecipherable continuing in the same vein. However, it didn't take long for Darcy to realize that the insouciance of his letters didn't quite match the demeanor of his friend. 

Darcy and Bingley had been friends for seven years and he thought he had seen all the various moods of Charles Bingley but this one seemed different somehow. Bingley had been pushing his food around his plate, indulging in desultory conversation interspersed with an occasional sigh for the past hour. Darcy had shown an inordinate amount of patience waiting for his friend to confide whatever was worrying him but his forbearance was beginning to wear thin. For the past week they had been enjoying London's night life, attending plays and musical theatre and dining at the most exclusive restaurants with some of their old Cambridge friends. More nights than not they had returned to Darcy's townhouse a little worse for the wear and had spent many hours sipping brandy before the fire and to their friends Bingley might have seemed his normal happy self but to Darcy something was amiss.

Tomorrow Darcy and his cousin Richard were heading off to Kent for their annual pilgrimage to Rosing's Park. Unconsciously, he let his own sigh slip out at the thought of the next few weeks in the company of his Aunt Catherine and her increasingly vocal demands that he finally set a date for his marriage to her daughter Anne. He had enough concerns of his own without worrying about Bingley. Darcy was extremely fond of Bingley and took his friendships seriously.

He finally broke the silence with a low growl, "out with it, Bingley. In the past hour I have yet to see a trace of that silly smile plastered on your amiable countenance. And this past week you have been more than a little dull. You've hardly touched your Beef Wellington and your sighs have begun to unnerve me. What has put you in this mood? Are you suffering from unrequited love or have you fallen in love with six women at the same time and can't decide which one to court?"

"Darcy, I think I'm dying," said Charles Bingley. "It's the only thing that could account for this dreadful ennui I feel."

Fitzwilliam Darcy eyed his friend who was the picture of robust health. Since leaving school three years earlier, Bingley had attended every dinner, every ball and any social occasion he could wangle an invitation to and had fallen in love with a regularity that was almost frightening. "Have you run out of ladies to admire?" he asked.

"Worse than that," Bingley groaned. "I've lost all interest in them."

Darcy suppressed a smile "How long has it been?" he asked.

"Two months," Bingley replied, feeling his pulse.

Well," Darcy allowed, "they do say that the last thing that dies is the sex drive, old friend. If it's been two months since you fell desperately in love for one or two days, it could be serious. What sort of a funeral would you like?"

Bingley wrinkled his brow in deep thought. "Something modest, I suppose. A couple of brass bands. A dozen black steeds to bear my poor body to it's final resting place."

Darcy shook his head. "Too humble in my humble opinion. Your sister would never approve."

"I doubt if she'd miss me...at least not until she missed her allowance check."

"What has Caroline been up to?"

"Oh, the usual. She wants to know when I'm going to invite my most excellent friend to dinner. You being the most excellent friend."

"Tell her that my engagement book is full."

She wants me to buy her a new carriage and she wants you to choose it as you have impeccable taste. Apparently, my taste leaves something to be desired."

Caroline Bingley still had the power to astonish. "Tell her to buy her own. She can afford it."

Bingley rolled his eyes. "sure, Darcy, I'll do just that. And finally, she wants me to buy an estate."

"Buying an estate is not a bad idea," Darcy allowed.

"In Derbyshire." Bingley added slyly.

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed," Bingley said with a wry smile.

"Tell her there's nothing in Derbyshire for her."

Bingley eyed his friend, "you tell her. I've been trying to tell her for the past six years that you have absolutely no interest in her. So have the Hursts."

Darcy had been hounded by Caroline Bingley since the day her brother had introduced them six years earlier. She seemed to think that her scalding wit was her greatest attribute. He had to allow that at the beginning of their acquaintance she had indeed amused him with her scathing remarks about their mutual friends but her barbs no longer had the power to amuse. He now looked upon her as a rather nasty and conniving creature. It didn't help that her favorite colors were various shades of orange which did not suit her sallow complexion, and the feathers which invariably adorned her costumes reminded him of an over-sized emu. Every time she leaned into him to whisper some biting remark he always steeled himself against the possibility that she was about to peck his eyes out.

The worst part of it was that she had absolutely no romantic feelings towards Darcy and he knew it. How could she? He had always been extremely polite to her on all occasions but always staying aloof and distant not wishing to excite her aspirations. At balls he danced with her only once and always danced with her married sister once. He allowed her to clutch his arm every chance she got and never once did he roll his eyes though her hands felt like talons. In short, he'd been the perfect gentleman in her company and for most women with any modicum of pride or sense that should have been enough to dissuade her from any hope that she could procure him as a husband. That she desired above all things to be the mistress of his estate was left in no doubt but she had no chance of winning his love. He wasn't sure of just what he wanted in a wife but he was sure she would be a far cry from the Caroline Bingleys of the world.

His ruminations were interrupted when he looked up and saw his favorite cousin heading in their direction.

Richard advanced towards them wearing that engaging grin which could charm the most dour character. His one failure had been Caroline Bingley who despised his amiable wit, and who was, after all, only the youngest son of the Earl of Matlock. "So," Richard cried, "what are you two looking looking so serious about? I can imagine my cousin contemplating philosophy, destiny and his navel, but you, Bingley, what is your excuse?"

Bingley, shrugged and remained silent.

"Well," Darcy drawled, "there's the matter of Bingley's funeral."

Richard blinked and shot a look a look at Bingley who rolled his eyes and looked resigned. "Poor fellow," Richard murmured, sadly.

"Well, I'd honored to be your pallbearer."

"You're too kind," Bingley replied.

"What's he dying of?" Richard asked Darcy.

"He's lost interest in women."

"That is serious indeed. Perhaps he spends too much time with his sister."

"Richard!" Darcy spoke sharply to his cousin.

"Oh, let him be, Darce," Bingley said. "He isn't saying anything you haven't thought. Or for that matter, I haven't thought."

"What you need," Richard pronounced, "is a wife."

Bingley stared at Richard in disbelief. "What on earth do you think I've been trying to do for the past three years?"

"Trying and succeeding to have fun!" Richard retorted. "But apparently you've tired of it. Time to get serious, old man."

"I suppose I could put a want ad in the Times. 'Affable young man is in need of a wife. Comes encumbered with an elder sister who is determined to be displeased with everything and everyone except Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley who comes encumbered with a not so saintly cousin.' Will that do?"

The two cousins laughed out loud enjoying Bingley's dry wit.

"It's too bad you don't show this side of yourself at a ball, Bingley," Richard said. "Instead of dancing and prancing around the room like a fuzzy wuzzy wabbit, you might adopt more of Darcy's behavior. Show the ladies your intellect and how well you can strut around examining the fireplaces and sconces that adorn the room. You might illicit more than a blush and a giggle. You might even practice the famous Darcy glare of disdain."

Bingley looked appalled. "Have you ever seen my look of disdain? I'd be more apt to be sent to my room for a healthy dose of Castor oil."

"Now wait a minute," Darcy objected. "That's a poor description of my deportment at a ball."

Richard and Bingley turned and stared at Darcy. "No it isn't," they said in tandem.

Darcy frowned, "how did we go from Bingley's funeral to my deportment at a ball?"

"Easy enough." Richard responded. "If you don't show more affability when mixing with the Ton, it will be your funeral. You stalk about like a humorless boor. I swear, Darcy, you're beginning to resemble Aunt Catherine."

Darcy was truly horrified, trying to discern whether his cousin was serious or just teasing.

Bingley, seeing Darcy's disquiet, did not laugh but came to his friend's defense. "Richard, if you didn't spend so much time in the gaming rooms when you attend a ball, you would understand why Darcy keeps so much to himself. The mothers of the Ton are a frightening horde and lately I've noticed that the fathers have begun to pressure Darcy into open admiration of their daughters. It's one thing to outmaneuver a mother, but when the fathers get into the act, it can become an uncomfortable and even dangerous game."

Richard would not be moved. Darcy was a kind and generous man whom he was proud to call cousin but his innate shyness was becoming to look more like pride. Darcy and Richard went back a long way. He had known Darcy for most of his life being three years his senior. He had seen him through the untimely death of his mother and the death of his father just five years ago and had seen the changes wrought by these deaths and the burden of running an enormous estate at such an early age. He'd watched his cousin turn from an outgoing young man to an introvert when in company. Richard feared for his future. He'd begun to study Darcy this past year and he saw what his dearest friend Bingley probably never even guessed at. Darcy was a lonely man. His obligations were onerous. The care of Pemberley was exacting and the welfare of his sister Georgianna was ever on his mind.

Richard's gaze moved from Darcy to Bingley. The friendship between his cousin and Bingley had begun at Cambridge when Darcy had taken Bingley under his wing. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper and Bingley had the firmest reliance of Darcy's judgment. In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually giving offense.

Unconsciously, Richard shook his head at the irony of it. Here was a wealthy man whose looks made the knees of women both old and young grow weak, and he was lonely. "Perhaps I should start looking for your brides, as you two are doing very badly at it."

"That's all we'd need," Darcy replied. Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you responsible for Edmond's marriage?"

Richard's anger was instant. "My brother is a fool," he snapped. "I may have introduced them, but I begged him not to marry Juliet. But all he could think of was her money and how it would enhance his own fortune. He's utterly miserable with her. On top of that, I've yet to hear a sensible word from her. Whatever you two do, don't make his mistake or you'll live to regret it."

Bingley let out a heavy sigh which drew the cousins' attention. "Caroline wants me to take her to Shropshire," Bingley said. "Her newest, dearest friend is in need of a husband. And I guess I've been elected."

Darcy blanched and stared at his friend. "You can't be serious, Charles."

"No, but Caroline is. Oh, Darce, settle down. You've been telling me for years to take my time before choosing a bride. Despite what you may think, I was listening. I have no intention of going to Shropshire with my sister. And the last thing I would ever do is marry a close, dear friend of Caroline's. It would be the death of me."

"What was her reaction," Darcy asked, "when you told her you weren't going with her?"

"I haven't told her yet. I was thinking of taking a ship to the Fiji Islands for a few months."

Richard laughed at the woeful expression on Bingley's face. "Coward," he said.

Bingley grinned, "my middle name," he replied.

"Charles," Darcy offered, "why not join Richard and me when we leave for Kent on the morrow. I doubt if there are any bare bosomed ladies in Kent and if my Aunt Catherine has any sarongs in her wardrobe, I've yet to see her wearing one, but you're welcome to join us."

"Great idea," chimed in Richard. "Maybe you can find a country girl that's more to your liking."

"Thank you both," Bingley responded, "but something's come up and I want to look into it. One of the estates I looked at last year has come back on the market and they're willing to lease it with an option to buy."

"Which one?" Darcy asked.

"I can't remember. In Herefordshire, I think. I have the letter at home. I think we both liked it, Darcy. Besides, at the moment I don't really care where it is as long as it gives me a chance to get away from London for a few days.

"In Herefordshire, you think? There are forty counties in England. Could you be more concise?"

Bingley laughed, "I know it started with an H."

Darcy shook his head in mock despair. That narrows it to four. You're hopeless, Charles."

Richard laughed hardily. "Poor Charles. We may never see him again. I can see him a year from now wondering through the British Isles looking for a county that starts with an H."

"That's if he runs into someone who knows the alphabet," drawled Darcy.

"Waiter," cried Bingley, "more brandy!"


	4. BINGLEY

During lunch, Charles Bingley had made light of his feelings, accepting with good grace the teasing of both Darcy and his cousin Richard, but now alone in his carriage heading back to his townhouse he could no longer disguise his true humor. He was not a happy man; indeed for the first time in his life he felt miserable and his mood had descended into a melancholia which he could not shake. It didn't help that he had no one to blame but himself...that fact simply added to his gloom. He had allowed his sister to run roughshod over him since their childhood when both parents were still alive. And now her treatment of him and his acceptance of it had become so entrenched in their relationship he couldn't remember a time when it wasn't just so. It had to come to an end for both their sakes but the thought of causing a scene made him physically ill. Here, Caroline would gain the upper hand immediately. She seemed to feed off her anger and frustration. She was obsessed with Fitzwilliam Darcy and her desire to be mistress of Pemberley and it colored every move she made, every word she uttered. 

Before parting from his friends he had promised to consider visiting Kent after looking at the estate situated in a shire which started with the letter H. He grinned thinking of their responses to his confusion of just where the estate lay. Richard, being a soldier immediately thought of losing his troops in foreign territory because he had forgotten to bring a map and didn't know where he was supposed to lead his men. Naturally, he was horrified. Clever Darcy had smiled and played along enjoying the joke. He knew one of Bingley's requirements was that the estate lay not too far from London and the various amusements that city offered. There was no doubt in Bingley's mind that if Darcy believed the shire started with an H, it was probably Hertfordshire. They had never looked at an estate in Herefordshire as that county lay on the border of Wales and was way too far from London.

The cousins were so far apart in temperament it was hard for their friends to understand their closeness. The same held for the friendship of Bingley and Darcy. No two men could be more far apart in the way they looked at the world. Darcy was more the tall silent type, never speaking unless he had something pertinent to say, something that would forward the discourse. Bingley simply babbled good-naturedly delighted to be with good company wherever he found it. Darcy looked at life with great seriousness always conscious of his name and place in society, always fearful of making a mistake which would bring disgrace upon his family. With Bingley, it never occurred to him that he might have to curb his tongue. He was perfectly affable and was incapable of giving offense which, he supposed, was the root of his problem with Caroline. She knew she could say and do anything without regard to how it would effect her brother. It never occurred to her that he could be hurt by her obvious disdain of him.

When his carriage pulled to a stop outside his townhouse Bingley's spirits dampened further. Now, all he had to do was relay his plans to his sister and he was terrified of her reaction. She had made it clear that she wanted him to accompany her to Shropshire ostensibly to visit with their Aunt, but also to meet a friend who had twenty-five thousand pounds. As far as Bingley was concerned, this lady who Caroline so newly admired, might have been as beautiful as a Grecian goddess, but if she was a friend of Caroline's, he would want nothing to do with her. He certainly would not want a wife who could be malleable to the machinations of his sister and he could no longer trust his sister not to have an ulterior motive. Naiveté and a sunny disposition had disposed him to think well of everyone and he could not believe that people had hidden agendas; that their motives could be selfish. Unfortunately, he had now reached the point when he could no longer trust anything Caroline said or did.

He wondered, dimly, if he had now become as cynical as Darcy. There were few people Darcy trusted outside his immediate family. Great wealth brought distrust in the motives of men and woman. Caroline was a perfect example. Darcy knew exactly what she was after and Bingley had seen Darcy's wariness grow in recent weeks. Bingley knew the time was nearing when he would have to make a fool out of Caroline and seek a public forum to do so. He no longer believed that Caroline would not be capable of forcing Darcy into marriage by setting some kind of a trap. He was immediately ashamed of this sinful thought but he had reached a point where he felt his sister capable of anything.

When Bingley stepped down from his coach, he delayed entering his house for a few moments while he gathered his wits. It was so clear in his memory the day he and Darcy walked through the rooms of this lovely home. He remembered with such clarity his friend's words. "This will be your sanctuary, Charles. When the world closes in on you, this will be your retreat. And one day you'll bring your bride here and God willing, you'll live happily ever after."

He felt tears sting his eyes at the memory of that day. How naive he'd been; how very young. Still wet behind the ears and barely into his first year at Cambridge he'd had so many hopes for the future. His home was now a place to dread coming home to... just exactly as Darcy had warned him this would come to pass unless he didn't take control and leave little doubt just who the master of his house was.. Now, his dearest friend had invited him down to Kent to spend some weeks with him and his cousin Richard Fitzwilliam, and he was terrified of telling Caroline.

A grown man, and he was terrified of his sister. How on earth had he come to this? Now at the age of five and twenty, he was learning a painful lesson that only he could solve and he would have much preferred to run away. Then, of course, there was the matter of an estate. He was having second thoughts about telling Caroline of his plan to see an estate with hopes of leasing it. She would insist on accompanying him and she would find nothing but fault. Knowing her, nothing would be acceptable unless it was within a stone's throw of Pemberley.

His inclination was to step back into the coach and head for Darcy's townhouse but that was no longer an option. It would be degrading to once again seek Darcy's guidance. His friend had shown nothing but kindness as well as forbearance for so many years but in recent months he sensed that Darcy had begun to withdraw his ready assistance and allow Bingley to work it out himself. After all, there was just so much guidance Darcy could offer. After that, Bingley either acted on it or continued to wallow in his own misery.

The front door opened and the butler appeared and hurried towards Bingley, "Sir," he said, "the mistress is waiting for you in the drawing room."

Bingley nodded, "tell her I'll join her in a moment."

The butler hesitated, "she seems rather anxious, Sir."

Bingley managed a smile, "you've delivered your message, Arthur."

Uneasily, he watched his butler return to the house and stood there for several more minutes wondering just how far he was willing to go with Caroline. He did not want a final break with his sister but knowing how volatile she'd become lately, he wasn't sure she understood how unhappy he'd become, or if she even cared. She had passed her twenty-seventh birthday during the Christmas holidays and now in the eyes of the ton, she had entered that mysterious realm of spinsterhood. Her anger and frustration and fear had become palpable. And all because Fitzwilliam Darcy had not fallen for her arts and allurements.

His concern for his sister's well-being had grown alarmingly in recent weeks. At times she appeared almost delusional when it came to Darcy. After every meeting with Darcy though it might have been nothing but a brief word after Sunday service, she seemed to find encouragement in her pursuit. If it hadn't been so pathetic, it would have been comical. It certainly was to his brother-in-law, Humphrey Hurst. He never missed a chance to have sport with Caroline and her 'wishful thinking'. This, of course, upset Louisa who tried to keep the peace between her husband and her sister Caroline.

The Hurst's townhouse had been undergoing some repairs for the the past few weeks and the Hursts had been staying with Bingley. Most of the time they were able to act as a buffer between Bingley and his sister. At other times, especially after Hurst had imbibed too much, they sometimes added fuel to the fire. Hurst despised Caroline and made no effort to disguise his feelings. He was a simple man whose aim in life was to eat , drink and be merry and once a week make love to his wife, Louisa. Caroline had a way of taking the fun out of these simple pleasures and he was always ready to take his revenge with his acerbic wit. When Bingley enlisted him to take care that Caroline was never left alone with Darcy he agreed with alacrity and a pleasure that was a bit unseemly.

When the butler once more appeared at the door Bingley straightened up and entered the house.

When he reached the drawing room it took only a brief glance to show that Caroline was in a fury. The Hursts were seated on a settee while Caroline paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. "Where have you been?" she screeched, not bothering to wait until the door had closed behind the butler.

"Having lunch with Darcy," he replied. "Then Richard showed up and we had a long chat. A most enjoyable afternoon. And I'm sorely in need of a nap, so if you'll excuse me..."

"Why didn't you send word that you would be dining out? I delayed lunch for almost an hour!"

Hurst snorted, "naughty boy."

Bingley poured a glass of wine and downed half of it before turning to face his sister. How had it come to this, he wondered? A tradesman's daughter who acted like a Duchess. When had she become to think so well of herself?

"Don't just stand there, Charles! Answer me!"

"Patience," Bingley heard himself say. "I'll answer you as soon as I decide what to say as I am truly at a loss to understand how you could address the owner of this house in such a fashion. And don't just stand there, sister! Answer me!" Bingley had allowed his voice to rise as he stared back at her. There was nothing like Dutch courage to make a man bold.

Absently, Bingley saw his sister Louisa clutch her husband's arm and lay her head on his shoulder. Humphrey Hurst gently patted her arm while never taking his eyes off his sister-in-law. Let the ton attend plays and musical comedies. He preferred to watch his sister-in-law explode. He grabbed the decanter of brandy on the table next to him, cradling it lovingly and out of harm's way.

Caroline's face had flushed an alarming red as she stared back at her brother. "How dare you speak to me in that tone of voice?"

"I might ask the same of you." Bingley replied, reverting to his normal placid tone.

"It's Richard," she spat. "Every time you spend time with that loathsome man you come back here in a crazy mood."

"Caroline, I'm really at a loss to understand what you have against the son of an Earl. His breeding is above reproach. He is Darcy's dearest cousin. He's handsome and intelligent and has a wicked sense of humor which normally would appeal to you. Why do you dislike him so? Surely you can't object to his breeding nor his looks. And I know you have little patience with stupidity. So that leaves only his sense of humor. Is that it, Sister? Do you hate him because he finds such amusement at your antics with regard to his cousin? You do go on about how beautiful Pemberley is. It's a wonder you haven't complimented Darcy on how well-behaved the insects are. You'll never have him, Caroline. He sees you for what you are. A shrewish, grasping female no different then any other schemer in London. Give it up!"

Caroline picked up a small vase and threw it forcefully at the fireplace where it shattered into hundreds of shards. "Get out of my sight," she screamed.

"You forget yourself, Sister. This is my home. You get out of my sight! I mean it, Caroline. I'm leaving London and I don't know when I'll be back but when I do, I want you out of this house."

Louisa finally found her voice, "oh, brother, don't do this."

"You have enough money," Bingley continued ignoring Louisa's plea, "to set up your own household and I would be happy to assist you, but I've made up my mind, Caroline, this can't continue. Until you acknowledge that I am the head of this family you will no longer be welcome in my home."

He turned to his eldest sister, "I'm truly sorry, Louisa, but I just can't go on anymore. She's made my life a misery. All I've ever wanted to be is happy and she's made it impossible."

By the time Bingley reached his room he had begun to shake. He gave instructions to his valet to pack enough clothes to last him for a month. He thought of escaping his home and hiding out for the night at Darcy's home but dismissed the idea the minute the thought crossed his mind. He had come this far and would not act the craven coward. Besides, knowing Caroline she would assume he would cool down and would be ready to apologize by morning. He planned to be halfway to Hertfordshire by the time she arose.

By noon the following day Bingley's coach had pulled up next to the inn at the charming village of Meryton. Bingley stepped down and stretched already feeling in a lighter mood. He had escaped his house without further discourse with Caroline. He'd had a good long dreamless sleep aided by an excess of brandy. He had a large notebook which he was determined to fill with copious notes about the furnishings at the estate and he was perfectly willing to stay in Hertfordshire for the next month if need be. He wanted to be fully prepared to answer any and all questions pertaining to the estate.

As he glanced around and took in his surroundings several of the villagers smiled in greeting and he returned their smiles with his usual affability. He headed straight down the street remembering exactly where the solicitor's office was. He was greeted warmly by Mr. Phillips and within moments they were off to view Netherfield Park.

As the house came into view Bingley's spirits rose. From the moment his coach had entered the village he had begun to feel reborn. He was about to make an important decision all on his own. He would not be consulting Darcy and for this he was in Darcy's debt once again. His friend had been pushing him towards independence since they had first met at Cambridge and Bingley was at last taking that final leap. He was excited, frightened and ultimately exhilarated.

True to the promise he had made to himself, he spent most of the afternoon sketching the major rooms and listing the furniture. With a critical eye he apprised Mr. Phillips of every piece of furniture that would have to be put in storage and be replaced by his own. He wanted the house to be in pristine shape and ready for inhabitance within a month. In the meantime he would purchase the necessary additions that would be needed. He wanted not one word of disapprobation from his sister if she ever visited him in Hertfordshire.

By the time he returned to the inn he was exhausted but extremely pleased with himself. It was just as Darcy had always predicted. There really was something wonderful in taking complete control over your life. Over dinner he heard some excellent news. It seemed that the village of Meryton was holding an assembly dance that evening and Mr. Phillips promised to introduce him to his new neighbors. Bingley loved nothing better than a country dance and he looked at this serendipity as a sign that he had made a splendid choice in coming to Hertfordshire. After a quick bath and dressed in his best finery he made his way slowly down the street examining the quaint shops that lined the route until he came to the assembly hall which sat atop one of the local pubs. With only a moment's hesitation, he climbed the stairs and entered the main room and was immediately addressed by Mr. Phillips who introduced him to the leading inhabitant of Meryton, Sir William Lucas.

His host proved to be a bluff and affable individual and Bingley was pleased beyond measure when that man proposed making introductions to the leading lights of the neighborhood. There was of course Sir Lucas's family, then the Phillips, followed by the Longs. Finally the Bennets of Longbourn were introduced to the handsome bachelor. The two youngest were dancing and laughing loudly making them the center of attention but Bingley spared not a second look at them. It was the blond goddess that immediately grabbed his attention. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and unconsciously he felt his pulse. It was beating wildly and dimly he thought that it would be a very sad thing if he were indeed dying for he was quite sure he was madly in love. Funny how things turn out.


	5. Another Change

The moment the coach had left the environs of Meryton, Elizabeth felt a sense of freedom and lightness of spirit. She wasn't looking forward to her visit in Kent but she thought she could very well endure it after a week in London with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. Though Henry Gardiner was her mother's younger brother they were in no way alike beyond some resemblance. Mr. Gardiner was in trade and had both feet planted firmly on the ground. He and Mattie Gardiner had been married for twelve years and were still very much in love. Together they were rearing four children, the eldest a girl of ten, the youngest a boy of five. Shortly after their marriage they had invited the two eldest Bennet girls to visit with them in London and had grown extremely fond of them to the point that they felt the girls were more their children than their nieces. Between them they had by example shown the girls how to deport themselves as ladies. Mattie Gardiner, a woman of fashion and just two and thirty years was a gentlewoman and had proved to be the guiding light for her two nieces.

Both Gardiners were well-read and thus were intelligent and clever. They loved to entertain and be entertained. There was always great conversation at their table, concerts to better their appreciation of music and it goes without saying that visits to the various museums offered in London topped their list of places to aid in broadening the mind. And last but certainly not the least was the regular attendance at the theatre. 

Elizabeth wanted the memory of this week to last her for months and had planned accordingly. She had saved every penny she could from her allowance and added to her father's birthday gift, she felt almost rich. Her best muslins had been freshly dyed and she had added some ribbons to make them seem almost new. While in London she had spent a wonderful week going from shop to shop spending her birthday money with great care choosing only the finest materials of a plain design which she could add to with fine lace and ribbons. With Mrs. Gardiner's guidance she had done very well for herself and felt confidant that she would not embarrass herself if she were so honored as to be invited to dine at Rosing's Park as the guest of the dragon queen. 

Hardly a night went by without some form of amusement mostly dining with friends of the Gardiners with a concert and an evening at the musical theatre thrown in for good measure. But the icing on the cake would be an evening at the theatre and a Shakespeare comedy. It would last her through the six weeks she had promised to spend with her sister, Mary, and the long dull weeks that would follow once she returned to Hertfordshire.

Her visit had the added benefit of giving her a chance to vent her displeasure at the behavior of her family. "They will destroy us, Aunt. Lydia is running wild and my mother is encouraging her. Mama is so determined to marry us off that's she's lost her reason. I hear nothing but of the red coats and how handsome they are in their uniforms. And mama goes on and on how her heart was broken when the red coats left her town when she was a young girl."

"And what does your father say, Lizzie?"

"He treats it all like a joke. Oh, Aunt, I don't know him anymore. He never paid much attention to us before Mary's marriage, but now that she's settled he spends even more time locked in his library with his books. He lets me in occasionally to get a book but he discourages any talk about the situation. In truth, I think he feels guilty for not taking better care of us."

"I'm sure you're right, Lizzie. I never knew your mother before Lydia was born. According to my Henry, her personality began to change rapidly when she realized that she would never bear a son. I can't approve of the way she carries on, but I can sympathize with her somewhat. As a mother she is responsible for the well-being of her children and marriage is the only way to ensure that in our society."

"I do understand that, Aunt, and I'm not totally unsympathetic. One evening when Papa had too much port he spoke of the early years of his marriage when they were both convinced they would have a son and thus ensure the future of their family. Papa spoke so wistfully of how he allowed his wife to spend so freely for she loved pretty clothes and he loved seeing her wearing pretty clothes and being so young and vivacious. Once Lydia was born, all hope faded and Mama's nerves began to grind away at his nerves. By then, it was too late to begin economizing and he was too tired to try. He chose to retreat to his study."

"It might have been worse, Lizzie. At least he stays at home and is faithful. Some men have chosen a different way of showing their dissatisfaction with life."

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, there's that. But living at home has now become so intolerable. He's sad and miserable. Mama is nervous and miserable. I'm depressed and miserable. And Lydia and Kitty are increasingly out of control and deliriously happy. Our family is collapsing and I can't see any way out. I feel trapped and grow angrier every day."

"And how fares Jane?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "you know Jane. Nothing fazes her. She just goes on her bland way, putting the best face on everything. I wish sometimes that she would lose her temper and start screaming. It might just shake things up."

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. "It would indeed. As much as I love Jane, I sometimes think she acts too passively. It's difficult to know what she's thinking. If she ever falls in love, I hope she'll show her feelings more openly. Few men can remain in love without encouragement."

Elizabeth laughed, "that's the least of our problems. If an eligible bachelor came to Meryton, he'd need an armed guard to fend off mama and all the other mamas in town. I pity the poor man who ventures into Hertfordshire. He'll never know what hit him. Besides, I can't imagine Jane inviting any eligible man to meet her family. I know I can't. I wouldn't be able to face the humiliation."

"Oh Lizzie. I hate to see you so bitter."

"So do I," Elizabeth replied.

"I do hope you won't allow these feelings to interfere with your enjoyment tonight. It would be a great disappointment to your Uncle and me."

Elizabeth smiled and reached out to embrace her Aunt. "I plan to enjoy myself thoroughly tonight. I plan to live on the memory while I suffer through my visit with Mary and her odious husband."

Mattie Gardiner felt helpless in the face of her favorite niece's distress. She comforted her as best as she could do. She had four of her own children to care for. Each year she took in Jane and Elizabeth for a month each and sometimes more. She introduced them to every bachelor she and her husband knew but it was all for naught. She so much wanted them to live full lives with men they loved and respected. She herself had enjoyed a warm and loving relationship with her husband. It saddened her to think that Jane and Elizabeth would be denied such fulfillment.

There is something magical that takes place at a theatre. When you walk in you enter an other-worldly plane where nothing is real. Two hundred people from all walks of life sit down together and fully expect to suspend belief for the better part of two hours. They will laugh and cry as a story written solely for their amusement slowly unfolds on a raised stage. Elizabeth never tired of the experience.

She had dressed carefully for her evening, wearing her lilac silk, and studding her hair with seed pearls. She knew she had never looked lovelier and she felt like a queen as she entered the box high above the stage and audience. It was the first time she had seen a play from that vantage and she would be eternally grateful to her Aunt and Uncle for this special treat. This night was a culmination of a wonderful week spent with her favorite people.

As the candles were slowly snuffed out a couple entered the box beside them. The box was set further forward so she had a clear view of the newcomers without having to turn and stare. The women was young, younger than Elizabeth. She seemed no older than 16 or 17 at the most. She was blond and slight and quite lovely. But it was her escort which caught Elizabeth's attention. He was the handsomest man she had ever laid eyes on. His height alone made him extraordinary for he was well over six feet tall, inches taller than the average man. But it was not just his height that was so arresting. It was the power he exuded. He was slender but with a sinewy strength that made him an awesome specimen. When he removed his hat his shock of dark curly hair was revealed and to her surprise she felt her heart quicken. For the first time in her life she wondered what it would be like to be in the power of such a man. Her mind boggled at the thought and she finally tore her eyes from him suppressing a smile. She dared a glance at her Aunt and found that lady eying her with amusement. "The view from here is quite lovely, don't you agree, Lizzie?"

"I make it a point never to disagree with my favorite Aunt," she replied with a wide grin.

Elizabeth prided herself in her ability to lose herself in the story presented on the stage. Nothing distracted her. But on that particular night her eyes constantly moved towards the young man in the box. She no longer focused on his looks but rather on his demeanor. Not once had he shown any interest in his surroundings. Not once had he looked down upon the audience. All his attention seemed to be focused on the stage and the comfort of his companion. It was a singular behavior. It had been her observation that most handsome men tended to preen like peacocks when they had a large audience. But not this one. The minute the couple had entered the box Elizabeth had heard the whispers and glancing down had seen many interested eyes focused on them. He could not be unaware of the interest being shown them, yet he ignored it all.

Occasionally he leaned far back in his chair and stared off in space showing no interest in the performance on the stage. Elizabeth found herself distracted by him wondering what could take his eyes off the stage. Was he bored? Sad? In love? Silently she chastised herself for ruining her pleasure in the play. She also knew that he had to be extremely rich and an integral part of high society. There was no chance of ever being introduced to him. He lived in a world quite above the life of the Gardiners. She sincerely doubted if he would even take notice of them. Being a determined young lady she was finally able to dismiss him and focus on the play. When the curtain fell she once more looked over to see him showing his companion through the curtains to the outer lobby. She would never see him again. She could not regret that truth. After all, she thought, smiling to herself, how could she possibly introduce him to her parents?

The ride down to Kent was quiet and restrained. Georgianna suspected that her brother and cousin were both suffering from an excess of brandy from the night before. Richard didn't even bother trying to disguise his condition. The moment he entered the coach he made himself comfortable and immediately nodded off. Darcy, being Darcy, attempted to be his usual self...in complete control of his faculties. Georgianna wanted desperately to tell her brother to go to sleep and let her be. She wanted nothing but silence in order to mentally prepare herself for the ordeal which faced her. When Darcy asked for the third time whether she was comfortable, she lost her patience. 

"Brother, if you're trying to make me a nervous wreck, you're succeeding!"

"Sorry."

"And please stop apologizing. I'm fine...or I will be if you either take a nap or open that book of yours."

"I can't get into it."

"Have you tried?"

Darcy shrugged. He felt edgy and restive. He looked at this trip as a complete waste of his life but Aunt Catherine was family and it was his duty to visit her, look over her books and otherwise, put up with her authoritarian proclamations and not roll his eyes at the absurdity of the woman. She would of course not lose any time before she began to urge him into marriage with his cousin Anne and he knew it was time to dissuade her of any expectations. He'd let it slide for too many years, never declaring outright that he would under no circumstances connect himself to Anne. He had played the coward for too long and it had begun to prey on his mind. It was unfair to Anne. While Lady Catherine held out any hopes that her desire to connect Rosing's Park with Pemberley, Anne had no hope of meeting a man who might allow her to escape the stranglehold her mother had on her. He dreaded the confrontation.

With fondness he remembered the past three weeks of fun spending so much time in the company of his old friends from Cambridge. With the exception of a night with Shakespeare and Georgianna they had spent almost every night on the town visiting the musical theatres and clubs, waxing nostalgic over the best time of their life and it had come to an end all too quickly. Or maybe not. Two of his friends were old married men. One of them had already sired a son who according to him was the brightest one-year old in the country. It was all too depressing. Once his sojourn at Rosing's park was over he'd be heading back to Pemberley and the thought of returning to his ancestral home gave him no pleasure. His beautiful home had become the loneliness place in the world.

Georgianna had been watching her brother curiously and when he sighed so heavily she grew concerned. During the last six months they'd spent at Pemberley, he had worked feverishly, sometimes from sun-up to sun-down. Riding across every square mile of Pemberley, checking out every building and house on the grounds, he'd ordered dozens of repairs and made sure that each order was completed according to his precise instruction. After their evening meal he'd sit in the music room listening to Georgianna playing with such a far-away look on his face she couldn't be sure he was even aware of her.

She had looked forward to their night at the theatre and though she knew it was one of his favorite amusements, he had once again exhibited that strange restlessness. He had actually left his seat during the third act to stand at the back of the box hidden in the shadows. He wasn't even looking at the stage but seemed to be staring off towards his right. Exasperated she mentally shrugged and said nothing nor had she even mentioned the incident though she was sorely tempted.

Her unease with her brother's feverish activities had grown to the point where she had consulted with their housekeeper about his odd behavior. She was certain that her brother was ill for she could in no way account for his conduct. Mrs. Reynolds had assuaged her fears with a laugh. According to their respected housekeeper, what the master of Pemberley needed was a wife. How having a wife would calm her brother was beyond Georgianna's knowledge but it was enough to put her on guard whenever he got restless.

Timidly and with the kindest of intentions she called her brother's attention back to her. "Wills, perhaps you should consider marrying Anne."

It took a moment for his sister's words to penetrate Darcy's introspection and when they did his head snapped up and he stared at his darling sister with a look of absolute horror. "What?" he snapped.

Georgianna was saved a response by a roar of laughter from Richard who had chosen that moment to wake up. 

Darcy turned and glared at his cousin. "Go back to sleep, Richard."

"And miss this?" Not on your life." 

Darcy ignored him and turned his eyes back to his sister. "What on earth made you say such a thing, Georgi?"

Georgianna was now in a state of terror. "I was just trying to help."

Darcy's face softened and he even managed a smile. "I know, dearest. But nevertheless, what made you think I'd consider marrying Anne?"

"Well, the only women you know are Anne and Miss Bingley. And I didn't think you'd want to marry Miss Bingley."

Richard exploded and collapsed against Darcy who had slumped back in his seat at a loss for words except to snarl at Richard to get back on his own side of the coach. He ran his hands through his hair, a sure sign that he was upset, "Miss Bingley? " he croaked in confusion.

"Well, Mrs. Reynolds said..."

Richard fell back against Darcy once more laughing hard. "This is priceless! What did Mrs. Reynolds have to say?"

"Richard," Darcy warned, "if you don't shut up I'll do something desperate."

"Like what," Richard managed between guffaws, "marry Miss Bingley? Or perhaps, Mrs. Reynolds is more your speed."

Georgianna was on the verge of tears when Darcy reached over and took her hand. "Don't cry, sweetheart. I plan to drop your cousin off at the first insane asylum we come to. After that, we'll have a nice lunch together. How does that sound?"

She glanced at Richard who responded with a broad grin. "What am I going to do with you two?" she said. "I never know whether I should laugh or cry with your antics."

"A laugh is good for the constitution," Darcy replied. "But I would prefer it not be at my expense. And Georgi, I know many women."

"Then why haven't you married?"

"I can answer that," Richard piped up. "No lady can meet his standards."

"Oh, do be quiet, Richard. Georgi, it isn't that simple. Marriage is for a lifetime. Surely you can understand why I can't be too hasty. I know a lot of women who would meet the demands of our family. Title and money is their criteria. I want something more. Do you understand, dearest?"

"He wants to be so in love," Richard laughed, "that he makes a complete fool of himself."

Unbidden, Darcy's mind flashed back to the night at the theatre when the sound of laughter drew his attention and curiosity made him stand up and move to the back of the box. The sight that met his eyes instantly bewitched him. He'd never seen her before but there was something about her that made his heart quicken. She was adorable in her simple lilac gown and her smile at the silliness of the play was so genuine that he found himself smiling in the darkness. Her companions though dressed fashionably were obviously not of the ton, so of course he could not connive an introduction which was a pity for he knew he would have liked to meet her.

Darcy sighed yet again and opened his book. "Enough foolish talk. Both of you leave me in peace."

After an excellent lunch they continued their journey to Kent. Georgianna regarded them with affection as both men settled down quickly and took the opportunity of nodding off. They were so different in nature and temperament and so very dear to her. It was more for their sakes than hers that she had accepted their invitation to join them in this journey. She knew they were concerned about her future. In less than two years she would officially enter London society and her innate shyness would be frowned upon. She was, after all, a Darcy, and there were certain expectations connected to the name, mainly that she be a leader. Anything less would be considered a failure on the part of the family.

She had no close friends. The girls she knew were either too young, too old or in most cases lived too far away. Pemberley was ten miles square. The manor houses of other estates were a half a day away, offering few chances to make friends. She filled her days with her studies and her music but it wasn't enough. Not even her beloved brother was enough. She missed the companionship of women. All she had was her companion Mrs. Annesley and Mrs. Reynolds the housekeeper. Both ladies were in their 60's and were closer to each other than she could possibly be. And soon she was going to lose Mrs. Annesley who had decided to retire and join her son's family in Ireland. To start the whole process of finding a suitable companion was daunting and she wasn't looking forward to it. Mrs. Annesley had been with her for the past five years and she would be sorely missed.

She would soon be spending more time in their London townhouse and it was imperative that she learn to relax in the company of strangers. Richard called it the Darcy curse. Both brother and sister had a hard time with people they didn't know well so they didn't know too many people outside their immediate family. It was a vicious circle and she was determined to break it. Thus, a visit to Lady Catherine De Bourgh. She hoped spending several weeks in the company of that terrifying lady would give her some backbone. If she survived unscathed, the next test would be Caroline Bingley. Oh how she would love to tell Caroline Bingley to take a long walk off a short pier. Her obsequious babbling at times drove Georgianna mad. She hardly dared ask herself how her brother endured her attentions. He surely had the patience of a saint.

She so wanted him to find happiness and she wanted so much to find a friend. 


	6. KENT

When the three cousins ascended the steps to Rosing's Park Georgianna's alarm grew and she stopped momentarily to gather her thoughts. Darcy took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. After a deep breath, she nodded and they continued up to the massive doors. From the entrance hall they followed the servants down a long hall until they were ushered into the inner sanctum of Lady Catherine De Bourgh who sat on a large raised chair which was a copy of a throne Darcy had seen at St. James Court. 

Lady Catherine was a strong, tall women with strongly-marked features which had never been handsome. "Where have you been?" she demanded. I've been expecting you for hours."

Wishing to lighten the atmosphere for his sister's sake, Darcy smiled with good grace and attempted a joke, "sorry, Aunt Catherine. Richard lost our flying carpet so we had to travel by coach."

His attempt at levity fell flat. Lady Catherine was not amused. "That is no excuse for tardiness."

"So I have been told. How are you, Aunt Catherine? You're looking well."

"You have not greeted your cousin. Where are your manners?"

Darcy took Anne's hand and kissed it gently. "How are you, Anne?"

Anne managed a smile before Lady Catherine answered for her daughter, "she is very well as you can see. And you, Georgianna, I was very disappointed when you didn't visit me last Easter."

Georgianna squared her shoulders and replied, "I had a severe head cold at the time, as I wrote you, Aunt Catherine."

"Catching a cold is sheer carelessness, Georgianna."

As Georgi groped for a reply to this silly observation, Richard stepped forward and took his Aunt's hand, "my feelings are hurt, Aunt. You have yet to greet me."

"How did you lose Darcy's carpet? It sounds like more carelessness to me."

While Lady Catherine grilled Richard and Georgi, Anne tugged at Darcy's hand forcing him to sit beside her. "I give you fair warning, Darce," she whispered, "she's already planning to name our first born Louis after my papa." Anne grinned at the alarm on Darcy's face. "What's the matter, cousin, don't you like the name? It could have been Lancelot or worse still, it could have been Colin."

Darcy eyed his cousin, "I swear, Anne, you're beginning to sound more like Richard."

"And how is the love of my life doing?"

"Still sowing his oats."

Anne's eyes softened as she glanced at Richard, "naughty boy. I think it's time for me to make a move on him. Now that I've regained my health, Hunsford begins to pall. I'm planning to return to London with you and spend some of my inheritance."

"Do you think you're up to it?"

"I grow stronger every day, Darce. What ever ailed me for so many years has by the grace of God abated. I no longer awake feeling exhausted and listless. I can now look in the mirror and not shudder."

"I must say you look more like your old self. But will your mother let you go?"

Anne shrugged. "She has no choice. I'm of age and have my own money. I've had enough of her foolishness. I do love her, Darcy, as hard as that is to believe, but enough is enough! Wait until you see her latest purchase."

"What has she bought?

"Oh, no. I won't spoil the surprise. You'll see it on the morrow, shortly after breakfast."

Lady Catherine had been stealing glances at Darcy and Anne while they whispered together and was well satisfied with how the visit had begun. She was sure that all her plans would now see fruition. She called their attention back to herself, and subjected her guests to her usual inanities and pronouncements.

By the time they reached their rooms each had a different reaction. Georgianna thought it had not gone too badly for she wasn't bleeding and had shed not one tear. Richard wondered if his Aunt's stupidity was catching, and Darcy wondered what the girl in the lilac gown was doing.

During dinner Lady Catherine announced that the following evening they would be joined by her clergyman, his wife and his wife's sister. "I have not yet met the sister but I suspect she is not very bright."

Richard choked on his wine. "If you think she is not bright, she must be a dullard to be sure, Aunt Catherine."

Darcy glared at his cousin and Georgi suppressed an unladylike giggle. She glanced at her cousin Anne who quickly put her napkin to her mouth.

Lady Catherine continued. "She comes from a small estate that is entailed to Mr. Collins who out of the goodness of his heart, offered for her and she had the audacity to refuse him. Imagine such a thing! She had the chance to save her family and she turned him down without a by-your-leave. Unbelievable! Her mother insisted she accept his proposal but her father said that she was old enough to make her own decision. What kind of family is this? Such thoughtlessness towards her family is insupportable. Allegiance to the family is everything."

Darcy recognized this last remark as the opening salvo of the assault. She would play on his ingrained devotion to his family and try to force him into a marriage with Anne. "Did she give a reason for refusing him?" he asked.

Lady Catherine looked appalled at the question. "There could be no reason that any right-thinking woman could offer. They are a family of five daughters and when the father meets his maker, they will be left to fend for themselves without a home or protector and with little money. It was her duty to save their family. Mr. Collins tried talking some sense into her pointing out her various deficiencies as to dowry and lack of title and the fact that she might not ever receive another proposal and would most likely end up an old maid but she would not be moved. She actually told him in no uncertain words that he was the last man on earth that she would ever be prevailed upon to marry.

Darcy could hardly credit this information. That a man would say such things to a woman he hoped to marry was startling. He could well believe that a woman might take umbrage at such callousness "Well, since we don't know all the particulars, perhaps we should not condemn the young lady out of hand. There obviously was no affection between them."

Lady Catherine's color rose. "Darcy I've never known you to speak such utter tripe! What has affection to do with marriage?

Darcy knew that if he answered honestly he'd be condemned as a romantic fool so he ignored the question and asked one of his own. "How did you come by this information?"

"From Mr. Collins, of course. He tells me everything that goes on in his life and the parish."

Darcy stared at his aunt. "Just to be clear, Aunt Catherine, Mr. Collins is the village Parson and he tells you about all the goings on in this parish?"

Lady Catherine nodded proudly. "He visits at least once a day every day so I can improve his sermons. When I hired him it was with the express instruction that I was to know everything about the people who live in Hunsford. I am excessively attentive to all those things."

Richard opined that Mr. Collins must be a very popular man with the citizens of Hunsford knowing that all their secrets were discussed each morning at Rosing's Park.

Darcy had a mental picture of what life would be like for the man who married Anne and obtained the mother-in-law from hell. He was hard pressed to contain a shudder. He glanced at Richard unable to suppress a smile. Poor Richard. If Anne had her way the poor man would never know what hit him. She'd have him bound in a silken cord with one large fire-breathing dragon following in their wake.

"What on earth are you grinning at?" Richard asked.

"Your future, old man."

"And that amuses you?"

Darcy dared a glance at Anne who was shaking with mirth. "Yes", he managed before laughing out loud.

After dinner Georgianna played for her Aunt but refused to sing. When Lady Catherine insisted, Darcy started to intervene but Georgianna held up her hand. "My voice is feeling a little raspy, Aunt. I would not wish to get ill and have to return to London so soon. Especially as I know my brother and cousin would insist on accompanying me."

The room grew quiet and Georgi glanced nervously at Anne who nodded before putting her handkerchief to her mouth and coughed gently.

This excuse had the effect that Anne had promised in one of her letters. Lady Catherine insisted that Georgi retire early and get a good rest. She exchanged a look with Anne who dared to smirk. It had been Anne's suggestion to threaten an early departure. She knew her mother planned a concerted effort to get Darcy engaged to her during the visit and would do anything to delay the cousin's departure until she had succeeded.

In the library a short time later Darcy and Richard settled down with their brandy. "Mr. Collins," ventured Richard, "sounds like a moron."

"Hired by Aunt Catherine, would you expect anything less? That he would discuss his personal life with such intimate detail is unfathomable. And that he repeats what he hears as a clergyman is unconscionable"

Richard shrugged. "Stupidity no longer surprises me. What did surprise me was our little girl and how she handled the old crone."

Darcy grinned. "The look on our Aunt's face was priceless."

"The look on your face was almost as amusing, Darce. You're so used to protecting Georgi that when she showed she could handle herself you looked almost disappointed."

Darcy laughed, "I must confess that she startled me. But in a good way, once I got over the shock. Being an officer in His Majesty's forces I'm sure it didn't escape your eagle eye that Anne and Georgi exchanged several secretive glances during the course of the evening. You know they correspond, and I think it's possible that Anne prepped Georgi for this visit. I swear Richard, that women can be fascinating creatures."

"If you feel that way you should get one for yourself. You'd be surprised at the amount of fun you can have with them."

"You're leering, Richard, and it is not to be endured!"

"Forgive me, Aunt Catherine," Richard laughed. "I won't do it again."

"That will be the day. But seriously, Richard, did you notice how well Anne looked tonight? She's recaptured the beauty that so enraptured us as children. She'll make some man a wonderful wife."

"Don't tell me you're thinking of making Aunt Catherine the happiest of women?" Richard asked with concern.

"No, no. Anne and I are more brother and sister than prospective lovers. But I must admit that the man who captures her will be a lucky man. Beauty, brains and a well-developed sense of humor."

"Don't forget her wealth, Darce. If she comes to London we'll have to look after her to protect her against all the greedy gentlemen who will surface."

"Well, I have my hands full with Georgi, so I'll leave Anne to you."

Richard frowned. "Cousin, you're grinning again. Do you know something I don't know?"

Darcy laughed, "I'm sure I do."

Shortly after breakfast the following morning the three cousins were treated to something they later agreed was more entertaining than a musical comedy.

A short, rotund creature dressed in black bowed and scraped his way to Lady Catherine's throne. Presented with so many esteemed guests he wasn't sure just who he should pay obeisance to first so he compromised and attempted to bow to everyone in the room at once. The result was a mixed bag at best. He came off looking more like a giant crab as he sidled around the room, his large black coat flapping and twisting about his pipe-stem legs.

Richard grinned broadly and Georgi glanced with disbelief at Anne who tried with little success to suppress a smile while Darcy frowned, as was to be expected. So this was the purchase Anne had alluded to the night before. Good grief!

As introductions were made to the honored and esteemed visitors of his honored patroness not to mention her honored and esteemed daughter nothing could contain his admiration and humility for such an honor. By the time he was finished Darcy was at the window attempting to wither the scenery with one of his dark looks. The man was either a buffoon or a con-man. He didn't look forward to meeting the man's wife for he was sure she had to be as stupid as her husband. Her sister, however, obviously had some common sense. This was going to be the longest six weeks of his life. He began to think of ways he could curtail his visit.

At the Hunsford Parsonage Elizabeth had settled in comfortably. To her surprise and relief, Mary appeared as she had ever had; not happy but not unhappy. Her house was of a goodly size and she had a cook and two servants. Her husband was still as repulsive as he had been in Hertfordshire but Mary didn't seem to notice. It was said that love was blind. Could Mary be in love? The thought of those two coupling made her shudder. Unbidden, the memory of the man at the theatre invaded her thoughts, much to her chagrin. She wondered if his touch would make her shudder? Somehow, she thought not. She really had to do something about the way her mind of late had tended to slip sideways when she least expected it. She had begun to think of that man as her phantom lover and wanted him out of her head, out of her waking hours and most assuredly, out of her dreams.

The afternoon was spent listening to Mr. Collins singing the praises of Lady Catherine De Bourgh's condescension, affability, generosity and wisdom. Added to his near delirium was the information that Lady Catherine was now entertaining her two distinguished nephews and a niece. That he was able to introduce Elizabeth to this family made his triumph complete. His cousin would live with the remorse of refusing him for the rest of her life.

Elizabeth continued to think of his patroness as an esteemed windbag though she had not as yet laid eyes on that venerable lady. She got little information from Mary beyond the fact that they dined regularly at Rosing's Park and were often called upon to make up a table for cards. Life would have been unendurable to Elizabeth to be invited after dinner to make up a table of cards. It would have crushed her pride and that's all she had left.

It had been drizzling lightly for most of the day so she had no chance of a long walk so spent it resting and recovering from the long journey. Mary offered little conversation beyond menial talk about her household duties and Mr. Collins could talk of nothing but Lady Catherine. Elizabeth was already bored and began to think of ways to curtail her visit. It wasn't until teatime that Elizabeth had a chance to speak with her sister. Mr. Collins liked to take his tea in the privacy of his small study much to Elizabeth's relief.

"Now tell me, Mary, how are you?"

Mary smiled, "if you're asking me if I miss Longbourn, the answer is no. Mr. Collins is neither sensible nor agreeable. His society is irksome and his attachment to me is purely imaginary but he has given me a comfortable home and ample food on the table. I've never had much respect for men or matrimony but I'm a plain woman with no dowry. I've done very well for myself, Lizzie."

"Then I'm very glad for you, Mary," Elizabeth responded sincerely.

"Living here has the added benefit of not having to listen to mama prattling about her nerves and the latest fashions and the less said about Lydia and Kitty, the better. I will confess to missing you and Jane but my days are full and I have little to repine."

As evening grew nigh Elizabeth's sense of fun stirred and she began to look forward to meeting Lady Catherine who would certainly offer up more amusement then the Parsonage could.

Before she returned to her room to dress, Mr. Collins detained her for instruction on how to dress for the evening. "I would advise you, dear cousin, to merely put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest. Lady Catherine will not think less of you if you are simply dressed. She likes the distinction of rank preserved.

Elizabeth came close to gnashing her teeth at the little weasel. She hadn't given a thought to how she would dress, supposing she would just throw on a simple muslin but after that little speech she formed another idea before she could close the door behind her.

She donned her lilac gown and slippers and studded her hair with seed pearls hardly able to contain her laughter at what she was doing. She knew that she was inviting trouble but her pride was at stake. She knew there were two eligible bachelors visiting Lady Catherine and she simply could not see herself entering that house looking like a poor relation of the wretched clergyman. After spending just a few hours at the parsonage she understood that if she was asked to leave, she would do so with alacrity. She could see no pleasure in store for her.

With the long cape that her Aunt Gardiner had loaned her she cloaked her self hiding her dress and pulled up the hood to hide her hair. She donned her soft kid gloves, took a final look at herself and was pleased with her appearance. She would show them all that she could hold her head up high despite being just a nobody from a back-water village in Herfordshire.


	7. ROSING'S PARK

As their party approached Rosing's Park, Mr. Collins grew almost hysterical in his excitement as he enumerated all the delights of that structure. He knew exactly how many windows there were for he had spent an entire morning counting them. Unfortunately he had to rely on Lady Catherine as to how many fireplaces there were for he had not been privileged to see above the first floor. And was not the topiary grand? They were copied from sketches made at the London Zoo. "My dear cousin, what do you think of the lions? Are they not regal? And so like my esteemed patroness which I have told her on more than one occasion." 

"I don't see any dragons, cousin," Elizabeth sneered with a sweet smile.

Mr. Collins looked confused. "Dragons? There are no dragons in the London zoo, my dear Elizabeth."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and involuntarily glanced at Mary. Whenever Mr. Collins uttered something stupid which was not unseldom she could discern a faint blush on her sister's face but in general Mary wisely did not hear. How she could tolerate the companionship of such a man was beyond Elizabeth's comprehension. Just a short five hours in the man's company had increased by tenfold her distaste for her sister's husband. Not only was the man an obsequious toad but the way he strutted about the parsonage displaying the good proportion of the rooms, the furniture and it fine aspects, it was patently obvious that he expected at least a few mournful sighs of regret for having refused his hand in marriage. She would not oblige him but instead took some pleasure in making sport of him. However he was such an easy mark for her irony even that small diversion was growing thin.

In the entrance hall while the servants assisted Mary and Elizabeth in removing their outer garments Mr. Collins hurried ahead impatiently anxious to bask in the imagined status he enjoyed as a man of the cloth. It would never enter his mind that a simple cleric was on the low end of the social strata. When they were all assembled at the head of the hall they were led down to the drawing room. Mary gave a non-committal look at Elizabeth's dress and followed her husband down the hall. Elizabeth brought up the rear.

The room was large and well-lit, the furnishings quite ornate but Elizabeth only had eyes for what she could only describe as a throne upon which sat a large homely woman. She stood silently and patiently waiting for Mr. Collins to finish his babbling before deigning to introduce Elizabeth. When he finally turned and saw her in all her finery his mouth dropped open and his face tightened in fury. Elizabeth regarded him placidly and waited for him to regain what little sense he possessed and get on with it. When he found his voice he made the introduction with no ceremony. "My cousin Elizabeth Bennet," he said,dismissively.

Elizabeth curtsied gracefully, "Lady Catherine," she said.

Lady nodded while her eyes took in Elizabeth's appearance. "Your cousin looks to be a pretty sort of a girl. You are Mrs. Collin's sister?"

"I am, Lady Catherine."

There was a long pause before Lady Catherine waved towards the settee and introduced her daughter, Anne, who stood and returned Elizabeth's curtsy with a friendly and slightly amused smile. "I'm truly delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet. We've heard so much about you."

There was no doubt in Elizabeth's mind that Mr. Collins had blabbed to everyone about their past history. It was in his nature. Elizabeth returned the greeting with her own amused smile, "and I, you, Miss DeBourgh."

Anne's smile broadened and she nodded imperceptibly.

Lady Catherine once more drew her attention and pointed towards a young lady, "My niece, Georgianna Darcy." Elizabeth turned and as her eyes fell on the young women she felt a jolt of panic and felt her pulse quicken. She immediately recognized the young lady who acknowledged the introduction with a gentle curtsy. Elizabeth's immediate reaction was to lift up her skirts and make a dash for freedom and not stop running until she reached the safety of her room in Hertfordshire. She wondered absently whether Lady Catherine would notice her departure. The next introduction was to her nephew, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire. With trepidation Elizabeth lifted her eyes and held her breath as she curtsied to her phantom lover. In the darkened theatre she had not seen just how dark and penetrating his eyes were. Darcy acknowledge her curtsy with a brief bow then studied the floor as she curtsied to Colonel Fitzwilliam who was absolutely delighted to meet her and said so with a broad smile. "I do hope, Miss Bennet, that you'll enjoy your visit to Kent. There are many fine walks around and about the neighborhood if your predilection lies in that direction."

Elizabeth allowed a faint smile. "As it happens, Colonel Fitzwilliam, my predilection does lie in that direction."

Richard rubbed his hands together "good, good," he said. "I would be delighted to play your tour guide. We have a wonderful maze that I'm sure you'll love to explore."

Elizabeth dared a glance at Darcy who was now staring intently at her. She felt the color rise in her face and she turned away to see Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine glaring at her.

"Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine demanded, "do you play?"

"I enjoy a game of billiards, Lady Catherine, and though I must admit I can play whist, I prefer a game of chess and best of all a good book

Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes. "You shoot billiards?"

"Only when it rains, your Ladyship."

Lady Catherine was not amused. "Billiards is a man's game, Miss Bennet."

"I play by men's rules." At that point Elizabeth was sure that she was going straight to hell but she couldn't stop. Anger that had been building up for months was finally being unleashed.

"When I asked you if you played, I meant the Pianoforte, Miss Bennet."

"I play occasionally, Lady Catherine, for my own amusement."

"For your own amusement? I've never heard such a thing. You were instructed so you could entertain others."

"Forgive me, Lady Catherine. I was not aware there were rules governing why we learn. In any case, I'm self taught which means that I need only entertain myself." Elizabeth spoke so sweetly with such an angelic smile on her face that she was sure the occupants of the room must think her an imbecile to be speaking such rubbish. Her mother had often chastised her not to run on in that wild manner. She should have listened. Mercifully, the butler called them to dinner at that moment and Richard hastened to Elizabeth's side. Darcy hissed at him, "your cousin Anne!" Richard immediately reached out to Anne and to his delight, escorted both beautiful ladies to the dining room while Darcy was left to do the honors for Georgie and Lady Catherine. Mr. Collins and Mary followed.

The dinner was delicious and uncomfortable. Lady Catherine monopolized the conversation leaving little room for any social intercourse between her fellow diners though there were various attempts when occasionally Lady Catherine drew a breath. Elizabeth found it astonishing that the woman could ask and answer her own questions. No one at the table seemed to find this odd or annoying. They simply ignored her or grunted agreement when appropriate. Of course Mr. Collins tried his best to insert various compliments to his hostess but was invariably silenced with a venomous glower by his esteemed patroness. Elizabeth did her best to look interested and thus polite, but it was exhausting and she was much relieved when the ordeal came to a close. It was disquieting to sit in so near a proximity to Mr. Darcy. Whenever their eyes locked, she felt her cheeks flush, for the reality of the man far surpassed her chaste imaginings. According to the novels she read, he was the standard by which every hero should aspire to. He was exceptionally tall with a shock of dark curly hair framing his perfect features. His profile was as finely chiseled as a Greek god. She found herself musing on what it would feel like to touch him. Would he feel like cold marble or would he be soft and warm to the touch? She felt the heat of this last thought and prayed that no one at the table could guess at the thoughts that were swirling through her mind. And why did Georgianna keep stealing glances at her? Probably wondering when she would forgo the silverware and start eating with her hands. Would the evening ever end?

After dinner she was allowed to drink a cup of coffee before the expected command came. She sighed, "what would be your pleasure, Lady Catherine?"

"Beethoven, I think,"

Elizabeth approached the instrument, her mind running through all the Mozart she knew. She settled on a Sonata, opened the lid and began with a variation. As usual, the music transported her and she closed her eyes in pleasure allowing her mind to float away to a far off place. She imagined herself barefoot walking through white-hot sand on the edge of a brilliant blue sea, her hair unloosed, her long skirts billowing behind her. It was Greece. She had always wanted to visit the Grecian Isles. So many Greek statues in Greece. All of them naked. Her eyes flew open at the thought of all those naked statues and found two penetrating eyes staring at her with a quizzical air. She dropped her eyes to the keyboard and willed herself to think of the white-washed houses clinging to the high cliff; of the soft sea breeze cooling her fevered brow for fevered it was with all those thoughts of unclothed life size nudes with their dark penetrating stares. Her ecstasy ended sharply with the harsh sound of Lady Catherine's voice announcing how no one in England appreciated the nuances of Beethoven more than she. Elizabeth finished the Mozart, slid into some Bach for good measure, then finally allowed the music to still. Her fingers lingered on the keys. It was a fine instrument and was torture to play for the sounds it made were so sweet and Mr. Darcy was surely the answer to a maiden's prayer. She would find it difficult to ever again sit down at the piano at Longbourn without remembering the feelings he engendered in her.

"You must practice more, Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine admonished her, "and concentrate on your fingering."

"Indeed, I should, Lady Catherine. No matter how hard I try, my Beethoven always comes out sounding like Mozart."

When Anne and Georgianna reached Anne's room after the guests had returned to the Parsonage they both collapsed on the bed laughing so hard they were in pain. "Have you ever?" Anne managed.

"Never!" Georgianna shouted.

"I swear Georgie," if Miss Elizabeth Bennet were a man I'd ask her to marry me."

"She's wonderful, I agree, Anne. But you don't know the half of it. All night I had the feeling I had seen her somewhere, but it wasn't until she started to play that I put it together. She was at the theatre last week when Wills and I attended."

Anne hugged herself. "Tell me!"

"Remember how I told you how restless Wills has been lately? Well at the theatre he was worse than ever. During the second act he got up and stood at the back of our box and was staring off at something to our right. I never gave it a second thought until tonight. There were three people in the box next to ours. An older couple and a young lady dressed in lilac silk." Georgie stared at Anne. "Do you see where I'm going?"

"Not exactly, Georgie. Are you saying that they know each other?"

Georgie shook her head. "No, I know they met for the first time tonight. But didn't you see the way he kept staring at her all night?"

"Sorry, Georgie. I was more interested in the way Richard kept staring at her all night."

Georgianna laughed at the expression on Anne's face. "Don't worry Anne. Richard is safe. He couldn't afford Miss Bennet. But didn't you see the way Miss Bennet tried not to stare at my brother?" Georgie stood up and twirled about the room. "Will's in love, Anne. I just know he is."

"Georgie, do sit down. You're making me dizzy."

Georgie obeyed. "Oh Anne I'm so excited for him. He's so terribly lonely. It's the first time I've ever seen him look at a woman the way he looked at her tonight. "

"Hold on, Georgie, let's not get ahead of ourselves. If what you say is true, what do you suppose he'll do about it?"

Georgianna was puzzled. "Marry her, of course."

"He would have to court her first, Georgie." Anne replied with a gentle smile. "And what do you suppose the family would have to say about it? Miss Bennet is adorable but poor. She has no title and she is the sister-in law of my mother's idiot clergyman."

Georgianna felt deflated. "But surely, Anne, love conquers all."

"Only in books, dear heart. But don't despair. Darcy has us on his side and I'm sure Richard will help. If he really is in love, we will convince him that Miss Elizabeth Bennet is the woman for him. I hope."

On the other side of the manor Darcy stomped into the library and poured himself a large brandy and with a withering glare at Richard he dropped heavily into a chair and drained half the glass.

Richard poured a goodly portion of brandy and sipped, eying Darcy over the rim of the glass. Steadfastly he kept his silence waiting for Darcy to speak. His cousin had something in his craw but Richard was clueless as to what offense he might have committed.

At last Darcy could not contain himself. "Do you like to walk, Miss Bennet? Does your predilection lies in that direction?" he shouted. "What kind of hogwash is that? And rubbing your hands and leering at her like she was a leg of lamb? And I suppose you hope she'll get lost in the maze so you can rescue her? You're a disgrace to the uniform! I've never been so...so...I've never been so...Oh, never mind what I've never been. You get my meaning!"

Richard threw his head back and roared with laughter. "I've never heard you spout such tripe. You sound more like Charles when he goes into one of his hysterical dithering modes."

"Nonsense!"

"You must admit that Miss Bennet is lovely."

"Tolerable."

Richard eyed Darcy thoughtfully. Tolerable? Miss Bennet was a beautiful woman, clever and bright and Darcy hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her for most of the night. "She's a bit cheeky, I must say."

"Utterly disgraceful," Darcy agreed.

"She certainly made Aunt Catherine look foolish."

Despite himself, Darcy smiled. "Impertinent filly!"

"It would take a master horseman to tame her."

"Think of that poisonous parson laying his greasy hands on her thinking she would marry the likes of him. Maybe I'll horsewhip him."

"Brilliant idea! Let's drink to that."

At the Parsonage Mr. Collins was furious. "My dear cousin how could you dress like that? I distinctly told you that Lady Catherine likes to keep the distinction of rank preserved. And do you think we are all blind not to see you flirting with Mr. Darcy? He is to marry Miss Anne DeBourgh. All your arts and allurements will not change that. You must go to church in the morning and pray that Lady Catherine will forgive me for bringing such a sinner into her house."

"I will do no such thing, Mr. Collins. You instructed me to wear any dress which was superior to the rest. I did what I was told. As for flirting with Mr. Darcy, that is a bold lie. I did no such thing. I know my place. He is in a social strata far above me and I am well aware of it."

"I hope you realize that, cousin. It's bad enough your younger sisters bring disgrace to your name, I will not have you sully my name."

Elizabeth's face drained of blood. She glanced at Mary but immediately realized that her sister would offer no help. Mary sat quietly with folded hands on her lap staring off into space seemingly oblivious to the scene taking place. "I will write to my uncle in the morning and ask if they will send their man to come and fetch me. Or better still, if you will loan me your carriage and a servant, I would be happy to leave in the morning."

"I will have the carriage ready for you at six. That would be best. Then I'm sure that Lady Catherine would find it in her heart to forgive my unfortunate connection to you for she is known for her affability and condescension."

Mr. Collins continued to ramble on about his patroness but Elizabeth had left the room. She climbed the stairs to her room, feeling that her heart would break.

As she undressed and put her lovely gown away she was sure in her heart that she would never wear the dress again. She had worn the gown twice and twice she had seen Mr. Darcy. In her mind it was a bad luck dress reminding her of her station in life. She could never aspire to the likes of Mr. Darcy and she felt her heart grow bitter.

She was about to blow the candle out when there was a light tap at her door. She opened the door and was surprised to see Mary who stepped in quickly. "What is it Mary? Your husband has decided that I shouldn't even spend the night under his roof?"

"Mr. Collins makes no decisions unless I allow it, Lizzie. Did you really think I'd let him send you off like an errant child? You will stay here until you wish to leave. I ask only that you tone it down a bit. Lady Catherine is as dense as Mr. Collins but Miss DeBourgh isn't. I would not like you to play her for a fool."

"I don't know what got into me, Mary. I do apologize" Lizzie responded sincerely.

"I'm sorry you're so unhappy, sister. I would give anything to ease your pain. But Rosing's Park now has four sensible people that I'm sure you will enjoy talking to. Make the most of it Lizzie. Now, get a good night's rest and I'll see you at breakfast."

After a sleepless night Lizzie dragged herself out of bed which she was too disheartened to face but knew she must. The thought of breaking fast with Mr. Collins caused her stomach to lurch. At least the day had dawned bright and sunny and she looked forward to a long walk which she hoped might lighten her mood. She knew she had acted reprehensibly the night before and it had to stop for Mary's sake.

When she entered the breakfast room Mary quietly greeted her. Only muffled sounds came from her cousin as his mouth was so crammed with a variety of foods that he was incapable of coherent speech.

When she sat down, Mary pushed a letter across the table to her, "this came for you a short while ago."

Lizzie saw at once that the letter had been written by Anne DeBourgh and she frowned wondering what on earth the heir to Rosing's Park had to say to her. She opened the letter and had to read the letter twice before she could comprehend the contents. Apparently, she had been invited to share a picnic with Miss DeBourgh and Georgianna Darcy that afternoon. When she conveyed the news to Mary Mr. Collins was still chewing his mouthful of food and almost choked as he tried to swallow, no doubt to add his tuppence.

"Oh dear," Lizzie addressed Mary, "that sounds like such fun. Unfortunately, I have to spend the day at church praying for my salvation."

This remark was too much for her cousin who managed to get most of the food out of his mouth and sputter, "my dear cousin. You will do no such thing. Do you have any idea of the honor they have bestowed on you? The daughter of my esteemed patroness has made you an offer you cannot refuse. It would be an insult that would be intolerable. You must reconsider!"

"Then, I have your blessing, cousin? You think my salvation lies in a picnic and not in prayer?"

William Collins responded by shoveling more food in his mouth eying her with distaste.

A different scene was taking place at Rosing's Park. The four cousins were happily breaking their fast without the annoyance of listening to Lady Catherine. "A picnic you say?" said Richard. "Wonderful Idea."

"Ladies only," Anne replied.

"What? You would keep the lovely Miss Bennet to yourselves?"

"Miss Bennett is funny and smart and Georgie and I want to become better acquainted with her without you falling over your feet practicing your overwrought gallantry."

Richard grinned broadly, "I'm insulted!"

"She's the most interesting woman we've met in a very long time."

"She's also a very angry woman," Darcy said.

The three cousins stared at Darcy, "why do you say that, Brother?"

Darcy regarded his sister, "Miss Bennet was extremely rude to her hostess. She made Lady Catherine look the fool she is. And it isn't in her nature." Darcy stood up abruptly, "I'm going for a ride. Join me Richard?"

Once the two men left the breakfast room Anne and Georgianna eyed each other. "What do you make of that, Anne?"

"Have you ever known your brother to excuse rudeness?"

"Not even with Caroline Bingley whom he despises. Not even George Wickham whom he loathes. What does it mean?"

Anne smiled. "Maybe he really is smitten."


	8. REVELATIONS

For the life of her Elizabeth could not imagine why the young ladies of Rosing's Park would require her presence on a picnic. The more she dwelt on her deportment the night before the more she suffered from regret. Her unhappiness and discontent were no excuse for the bad manners she had displayed. What they must think of her had kept her awake for most of the night. She had convinced herself that they would avoid her company like the plague and who could blame them? She was a nobody from nowhere and had been invited to share an evening with those whose station above her was so distant that it seemed unthinkable that she had actually been invited to do so. And how had she responded? The answer came all too quickly. She had been ill-mannered and contemptuous. Instead of showing herself to be a demure young lady her actions had been audacious and outlandish. Her Aunt Gardiner would be mortified and ashamed, no more ashamed then she herself was. 

And now she stood near the gates of the parsonage waiting for the misses Darcy and De Bough to arrive in their carriage. Behind her, pretending to be busy with the hedges, fluttered her loathsome cousin waiting for another chance to make his abeyance to those two ladies and no doubt his apologies on her behalf. It was all too much. In her mood she could only see more unhappiness ahead of her by allowing herself to enjoy the company of these women or worse still possibly encountering Mr. Darcy once more. And therein lay the truth. Since the night at the theatre he had never been far from her mind. It was the fear of his presence that so unnerved her. Why this should be so she could not interpret. He was only a man after all. In her twenty years she had met with all kinds of men that had left her amused, disgusted and indifferent. Why Fitzwilliam Darcy should have this effect on her was exasperating and left her in a state of confusion. She had not exchanged a word with him beyond the usual civilities when introduced. Instead he had this bewildering habit of staring at her with those penetrating dark eyes that sent her pulse racing.

She heard the sound of the carriage approaching still hidden by the trees and hedges that guarded Rosing's Park. Before she knew what she was about, she slipped through the gate of the parsonage and broke into a run across the narrow lane and down the path that led to the manor house. Sure enough the small phaeton was slowly approaching and easily pulled to a stop a few yards from where she had come to a halt. If Anne thought it strange that Elizabeth had not waited for her at the parsonage gate, she did not remark on it but greeted her with a broad smile, "climb in, Miss Bennet."

When Elizabeth obeyed and settled down next to Georgianna Anne expertly flicked the reins and the carriage began to move. "Miss De Bourgh, I give you fair warning that Mr. Collins is hovering near the gate of the parsonage."

Anne laughed hardily, "thank you for the warning, Miss Bennet. I will be eternally grateful for that information." When their carriage reached the lane Mr. Collins, hat off and bowing deeply was planted on the side of road. Anne urged her horse for more speed and the carriage passed Mr. Collins by stirring up a cloud of dust and didn't slow down until they reached the village of Hunsford a half-mile away. Once through the village she guided them up a wide steep track that eventually led them to a plateau that looked down on the surrounding area. Here she pulled to a stop and leapt down and loosely tethered the reins to a thick branch allowing her horse to graze. "We made it all safe and sound," she grinned.

Elizabeth returned the smile, "did you have any doubts?"

Georgianna laid a gentle hand on Elizabeth's arm, "Anne is a very good driver, Miss Bennet. We always arrive safe and sound."

Elizabeth laughed, "that's very good to know, Miss Darcy."

Anne shook her head in amusement at her young cousin and shared a look with Elizabeth. "I hope you have a good appetite, Miss Bennet. I, for one, am starving."

The next two hours were the most pleasant Elizabeth had enjoyed in months. Georgianna Darcy proved to be a sweet and shy young lady but with a gentle humor and eager to please and be pleased, much like Jane. Anne Debourgh on the other hand seemed more a kindred spirit. As she described her life in the country her remarks were full of ironies that had Elizabeth and Georgianna laughing out loud. She even spoke at length about her mother and what she described as her eccentricities with surprising fondness.

"You find her amusing?" Elizabeth asked trying not to sound too impertinent.

Anne smiled at the look on Elizabeth's face. "I don't know how much Mr. Collins has told you, but after my father died, I became ill and despite consulting with the finest physicians in Town they could find no cause. From a girl who embraced life I sought my bed where I happily slept round the clock. I lost my appetite and was so tired I could hardly lift a spoon to my mouth. Doctors could only prescribe bed rest, a variety of tonics and hope. I lost every ounce of strength and energy. I became a prisoner in my own house.

"Did they ever discover what ailed you?"

Anne shook her head. "They had seen the same symptoms in other young people. The best they could advise was that it eventually went away by itself. Small comfort! I was seventeen years old and had my whole life ahead of me and I couldn't get out of bed without the aid of a servant. There were no longer trips to Town, no shopping sprees, no longer the long walks in the countryside. I couldn't visit Pemberley or Matlock. Darcy and Richard no long visited Rosing's Park. Richard went off to Cambridge and eventually went into the army. Darcy finished Cambridge and took up the reins of Pemberley after his father died. I missed my debut into London society and life passed me by. But to tell you the truth, by that time I hardly cared and found my refuge in sleep. That's when my mother's personality began to change. Many a night I'd awaken to find her sitting by my bed talking to herself." Here, Anne laughed gently, "she still does in case you haven't noticed."

"It must have been terrible for both of you."

"In many ways it was worse for my mother. She had me late in life and was always protective of me. She would not leave me. She no longer accepted invitations to the dinners and balls that are so integral a part of the London season and eventually the invitations dried up. We both became isolated from the life we had once known. Eventually she took an interest in the going's on of Hunsford village. She had no life of her own so she began to interfere in everyone else's life. Then, two years ago I began to slowly regain my health. By that time mother had become truly eccentric and she hatched a plan that I would marry a certain cousin of mine. Of course, my cousin and I have different ideas but that doesn't stop her from insisting on the marriage going so far as to pick out the names of our children."

Elizabeth and Georgianna laughed at the expression on Anne's face. How differently did everything now appear in which Lady Catherine was concerned though it didn't explain all. After a moment, Elizabeth dared, "and what of Mr. Collins? How does he fit in?"

Anne laughed out loud. "She's old, bored and lonely and I'm ashamed to admit that my mother finds great amusement in Mr. Collins. Many a lonely night has been brightened by her tales of your cousin's latest attempt at instructing his flock."

"And she hired him knowing just how stupid he is?" Elizabeth couldn't decide whether she was more amused or appalled at how cavalierly the rich could manipulate the people around them.

Anne shrugged, "I told you she was bored. And besides who else would have hired him? But enough about me. Tell us about Hertfordshire."

Anne's openness about her mother prompted Elizabeth to open up about her life in Hertfordshire and especially her family life. "If your cousin the colonel ever decides to visit Hertfordshire, warn him to bring an armed guard to defend himself. No telling what will ensue if Lydia or Kitty spy a Colonel dressed in full regalia. And of course it goes without saying that my mother would need an extra bottle of smelling salts when she discovered he was unmarried," Her audience of two were convulsed at her description of her two younger sisters and her mother.

"And what of your sister Mary? Anne managed when she was able to speak again.

"Once Mary discovered Fordyce's Sermons there was no end to the homilies the family was subjected to. Did you know that a lady should appear to think well, rather than speak well of books? Or that a woman's business is chiefly to read men in order to make ourselves agreeable and useful?" Elizabeth shrugged in disgust. "Then she discovered Beethoven. I've often wondered if Beethoven perhaps went deaf when he overheard her playing one of his compositions."

These remarks sent the ladies into another spasm of mirth. Elizabeth's droll way of speaking had the ladies enthralled and enchanted with their new friend. It wasn't long before they were addressing each other by their first names and feeling a little tipsy with the wine coolers that went so splendidly with the dainty chicken and watercress sandwiches they were nibbling on while exchanging intimacies of country life.

"Will you tell us about your sister Jane?" Georgianna asked gently.

"There really isn't much to say about Jane. She looks like an angel and acts like one. She honestly doesn't believe that evil exists in the world. Sometimes her naiveté drives me crazy but I love her dearly and feel very protective about her. She's a gentle spirit and I pray daily that one day she'll meet the man of her dreams and live happily ever after."

Elizabeth felt a blush at her mawkish sentiment but Georgianna touched her hand in sympathy "it does you credit to want your sister to be happy, Lizzie."

"Is she your best friend?" asked Anne

Elizabeth considered her answer and finally shook her head. "She's my favorite sister and a very dear friend, but my best friend might as well be on the other side of the moon. She lives in Norfolk and is a governess to a stranger's children." To Elizabeth's dismay tears sprang unbidden to her eyes and she wiped at them angrily. "Forgive me. I thought I was over shedding tears for Charlotte."

Georgianna could never abide seeing someone shed tears without shedding her own. "Oh, the pair of you," cried Anne dabbing her own eyes. "if Darcy and Richard catch us like this they'll lock up the wine cellar and throw away the key."

Anne's words had the desired result and the three ladies shared a laugh before lapsing into a comfortable silence.

After several minutes Elizabeth began to speak of Charlotte Lucas and about the day that Charlotte called early at Longbourn to tell her that she had taken a position as governess in faraway Norfolk. As she spoke the memories of that day washed over her. She remembered the shock and disbelief that her parents would willingly send their eldest daughter off to the other side of the country as a governess in a house of strangers. Neither Charlotte nor her parents even knew these people. They had acted solely on the recommendation of a friend who had it from a friend who had it from another friend that the family in Norfolk were decent people who were in need of a god-fearing, genteel, unmarried woman of a certain age to govern their four children. Charlotte had no say in her fate. She was after all a plain and poor woman who had reached the age of seven and twenty with no prospects of marriage. Never mind that she was intelligent, obedient and the dearest creature in the world. To her parents it came down to economics. She was simply another mouth to feed, another body to clothe. Elizabeth's mother saw not a tragedy but a warning to females who did not procure husbands. When Elizabeth refused to marry William Collins her mother never ceased to remind her of the fate that had befallen her best friend and what was in store for all woman who didn't marry to ensure their future.

Elizabeth heard the bitterness in her reflections but could not constrain herself. "Though seven years separate us Charlotte always treated me as an equal even when I was but a child of six and she was just thirteen. There's a certain tree on the Lucas estate where I could always find her reading a book which she'd lay down happily to engage me in conversation. There was always an extra sandwich or cake or a bit of fruit that she shared with me. We would talk for hours. I would ask her innumerable questions about life and the world we lived in; about the books she loved; about her dreams of the future. No question was too silly or even indecent but was always treated with respect and consideration and answered as best she could. I look back now and wonder how she endured my childish curiosity when she was not more than a child herself. But endure she did. Eventually we became the dearest of companions. There was nothing that happened in our lives that didn't call for a meeting to share our happiness or grief. There isn't anything I would not do for her. She's been gone for six months now and I still miss our talks. If she were married and happy I would be delighted for her but knowing her life will be one of misery and loneliness is unbearable. She's so far away from the only life she has ever known living on an estate ten miles from the nearest village with no one to comfort her. I'm angry and bitter at the injustice of it all and I can't or won't shrug it off and forget it. It would be the worst betrayal of our friendship."

"And what of your dreams, Lizzie?"

"I'm not sure I have any, Anne. As far as marriage goes, I've seen too many marriages that were such sad affairs at best. My own parents are a perfect example of a couple whose love eventually descended into boredom. Their love couldn't survive the birth of five daughters and no son. Instead of accepting what fate had handed them, she turned silly and he withdrew to his library. I think marriage requires passion as well as affection and friendship. Or perhaps I read too many novels."

Anne laughed, "on the contrary. I think passion is an integral part of marriage though my mother would be appalled at such a declaration. She is determined to marry me off to Darcy who is more like my brother than a future husband."

Elizabeth was stunned. Darcy was the cousin Lady Catherine wanted Anne to marry? "And will you marry him?"

"Be not alarmed, Lizzie," Anne smiled. "Darcy looks upon me as a sister as well. No, he is looking for passion as well and is determined to find it."

Elizabeth stared back at Anne. Had her face showed alarm? It was disquieting to think so. She glanced at Georgianna who was smiling gently at her, "my brother is an excellent man, Lizzie. He's a bit standoffish when with strangers but once you get to know him he's very sweet and funny."

Good grief! Are they playing matchmaker? If so, they were wasting their time. That Fitzwilliam Darcy would even consider her as a possible bride was laughable. That knowledge didn't stop her pulse from racing. That she would even allow herself to think of that possibility was the height of insanity and would lead to her ruin. "I'm sure your brother will have no trouble in finding a bride in the Ton. There must be dozens of women dying to marry your brother."

"Do you think so?"

"Well of course, Georgie. He's God's gift to women. That is to say," Elizabeth hastily amended, " he's not bad looking. And...and I suppose he is wealthy. If he wants to marry I'm sure he can find someone to suit him."

"Of course, they would have to climb over Miss Caroline Bingley to do so," Anne allowed with a wry smile.

Elizabeth shook her head in bemusement, "and dare I ask who Miss Caroline Bingley is?"

"She is my brother's suitor." Georgianna collapsed on the blanket rolling in glee.

"His suitor?"

She is the sister of Will's best friend, " Anne responded. "From the moment she met him seven years ago she determined to have him. Or rather, she determined to become mistress of his estate. She is cold and calculating and nothing deters her from her pursuit. If she showed a sign of affection towards him she'd be pathetic, but there is nothing of the sort. She has a caustic wit which passes for humor. She treats her brother with disdain and Charles is the dearest young man. He actually sounds like he'd be perfect for your sister, Jane. She compliments Georgie to endear herself to Darcy. And there's something in her eyes that lowers the temperature in any room she enters."

Georgianna laughed, "poor Miss Bingley."

Poor Miss Bingley indeed. But Elizabeth suspected that Mr. Darcy would prefer Miss Bingley to an impertinent chit who played pool and didn't know the difference between Mozart and Beethoven.

When Anne and Georgianna returned to the house they were summoned to the drawing room for the usual interrogation by Lady Catherine. "And how did you find Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

Anne had no hesitation in pronouncing Elizabeth Bennet as delightful and Georgianna agreed. "She's a wonderful young woman, Mother. Intelligent and witty and very kind."

"I found her exceedingly impertinent," Lady Catherine stated firmly.

Georgianna offered, "She's very sad, Aunt. She's lost a very dear friend

Lady Catherine sharp eyes fixed on her niece, "A friend died?"

"No. Not exactly."

"Georgianna, it is impossible to not exactly lose a friend."

Anne interceded, and told her mother about Charlotte Lucas and the fate that had befallen her as a plain, poor woman of gentle birth. Through her recitation Lady Catherine listened with narrowed eyes but had nothing to say. "She misses her friend sorely, Mother, and Georgie and I feel sorry for the poor girl."

"She might have thought of her friend when she turned down Mr. Collin's offer. The same fate may be in store for her."

"Oh, Mother, can you just imagine her as the wife of that idiot?"

Lady Catherine sighed. "No, I can't, daughter, but a woman makes many sacrifices. It's a man's world and according to them, sacrifice is our lot in life."

"But she doesn't have to like it."

"Few of us do. And now I think that both of you should lie down before dinner. I will assume that your flushed faces are due to the April sun and not from the wine coolers you had packed in your basket. And by the way, Mr. Collins was here earlier and begged forgiveness for Miss Elizabeth's egregious behavior last night."

"And did you forgive her, Mother?"

"Of course. What else would you expect from such a noble, kind and condescending patroness?"

Anne leaned over and kissed Lady Catherine's cheek. "Nothing less, Mother."


	9. INSTRUCTIONS

When Elizabeth returned to the parsonage she was greeted by an exuberant Mr. Collins. They had been invited back to Rosing's Park for dinner. On her behalf he had pleaded for forgiveness and due to Lady Catherine's kindness, condescension and nobility had been granted a second chance. Once he finished complimenting himself on his perspicacity in knowing how to demean himself, he gave Elizabeth a warning that there would not be a third chance. "You will dress according to your low station in life and will speak only when spoken to. You will show your abeyance to Lady Catherine's high station in life and you will not attempt to forward your acquaintance with Miss De Bourgh or Miss Darcy. And under no circumstances will you use your arts and allurements to trap Mr. Darcy in your web. He is to marry Miss Anne De Bourgh. So remember, dear cousin, you must be seen and not heard this evening "

He was in his element and enjoying himself. Elizabeth was repulsed and left the room and fled upstairs to her room. She threw herself on the bed wondering what her next move should be. She had so enjoyed the afternoon with two remarkable young ladies but there was no doubt in her mind that in the days to come she would be thrown into the company of the men at Rosing's Park and she truly didn't think she was up to it. Lady Catherine planned to marry off her daughter to Fitzwilliam Darcy and knowing how much family meant to the wealthy the chances were great that she would succeed eventually. Then there was her odious cousin. After two days her tolerance for his stupidity had reached it's limit. But there was even more to consider. She had to think of Mary. Mary was content with her situation and Elizabeth did not want to make life difficult for her sister.

Anne had described her mother as kinder than she appeared but she was a mother set on a course and after years of seeing her own mother set on a course when it came to marrying her daughters, she knew how tenacious Lady Catherine might prove. If she thought for a moment that Elizabeth might interfere with her plans, she would not hesitate to dismiss Mr. Collins and where would that leave Mary? Elizabeth could not take a chance on destroying her sister's comfortable life. Elizabeth thought the best thing she could do would be to return to Longbourn. That she would never see Darcy again gave her pause but she knew that the vast chasm that separated them could only lead to her own heartbreak and she was depressed enough without that added burden.

After a short nap Elizabeth bathed then dressed leisurely in a demure yellow muslin and donned the matching slippers that Mary had given her for her birthday so many months ago. At that moment Mary slipped into her room and nodded appreciatively, "you look lovely, Lizzie. May I help you with your hair?" At Lizzie's nod Mary pulled down several strands of hair to lessen the severity that Elizabeth had fashioned. She then expertly wove various colored ribbons through her soft curly tresses. When she was finally satisfied she gazed into the mirror watching Lizzie's expression. "How do you like it, Lizzie?"

Elizabeth smiled at her sister's reflection, "I like it very well. Thank you Mary."

"Lizzie, you mustn't worry about what Mr. Collins says. He really means no harm."

"He's cruel and without feeling."

"No, Lizzie. He's not vicious."

Stunned, Elizabeth stared at her sister. Was it possible that she was sharing the house with not one, but two imbeciles? This uncharitable thought made her lower her eyes in remorse. "How can you say that, Mary? He treats me with disdain! His condescension towards me is insufferable. Mary, I've decided to return to Longbourn. I'm sure this will be good news to your husband. I beg of you to arrange my transport back to London."

"Lizzie, I am with child."

Elizabeth felt her heart stop, then break and go cold. Tears sprang to her eyes. "No, no, it can't be!"

"Please, sister, be happy for me. I have everything I want."

First Charlotte now Mary locked in lives of quiet desperation. Selfishly she could only wonder what her own fate would be. She stood up and embraced Mary. "Forgive me, Mary. It was the shock. If you you are happy then I am happy for you," she lied. Elizabeth's misery was now complete.

In the library at Rosing's Park Darcy and Richard were sipping wine and deep in their own thoughts. 

"We should not have spied on the ladies," Darcy said.

Richard snorted, "three ladies dressed in colorful muslins twirling their parasols and laughing so joyously. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I wish I had a painting of the scene. I'd take it into battle with me."

"We are no longer children, Richard."

"We are not old men, either, Darcy. Where's your spirit?"

"We are no longer inquisitive boys getting a thrill out of the sight of our cousin removing her shoes and stockings to splash through the creek. What if they had seen us lurking in the woods?"

"But they didn't! And it isn't as if we had planned it."

Darcy eyed his cousin, "we know these woods like the back of our hands. We both knew what we were about."

"And you joined me happily enough. Now you have to spoil your pleasure by feeling guilty. What was the harm? If they had spotted us they would have invited us to their picnic. But they didn't and that's the end of it. You've forgotten how to have fun, Darcy."

Darcy sighed heavily, "I suppose I have."

"We used to have such great fun when we were lads. Now you're always so serious. It's time you find yourself a wife who will give you some liveliness and if you marry prudently your wife will teach you to laugh at yourself." Richard stood up and refilled their glasses. "Now tonight Miss Elizabeth Bennet will be gracing our table once more. Why don't you practice on her. Act charming and if you must stare at her try to speak occasionally so she doesn't think you mentally deficient. Flirt with her. Smile at her. Beguile her with your intelligence and wit. Don't snarl or glare at anyone."

Despite himself Darcy began to laugh. "You would have me play the fool for your amusement, Cousin? Adopt some of your quaint expressions? Aunt Catherine would have my head on a stick."

"It would end your supposed engagement to Anne."

"There is that. However, if I perform like a fuzzy wuzzy wabbit as you once described Charles, and prance about with a silly smile on my face Aunt Catherine would have me committed."

"Either way, you must speak with our esteemed aunt. It isn't fair to Anne or yourself to allow her to continue on with this delusion. Unless of course you are now considering marriage to Anne. Are you?"

Darcy shifted uncomfortably and hesitated before replying. So many years searching for a woman who would please him and who would be pleased by him. So many discouraging years when he actually considered marrying Anne in his darkest moments. If he had ever come close to asking Anne for her hand the knowledge that Richard was the one she truly loved stopped him. It would have been bad enough to marry a woman who didn't love him, but to marry a woman who loved his cousin would have been suicidal and might eventually lead to a tragedy he dared not contemplate. No, Anne was out of the question. 

Unbidden, his mind cast back to the night at the theatre when he first laid eyes on Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Why she had enchanted him he knew not. Something in her eyes, perhaps. She'd been so taken with the farce taking place on the stage. Her beautiful eyes glowed in unfeigned delight. Every once in a while she had turned to the couple with her just to share her laughter. So unlike the ladies of his acquaintance whose public conduct seemed so practiced. But what struck him forcefully was that never once had she turned her eyes towards him. The moment he entered the box he had heard the whispers and from long practice refrained from squirming. He hated drawing attention to himself and usually came late and didn't enter his box until most of the candles had been snuffed out. With Georgianna with him, that would have been impossible. Hearing her soft laughter had finally drawn him to stand at the back of the box to watch Elizabeth. Never once had she laughed, then looked at his box to see if he was watching her.

Darcy had never been in love so had no standard by which he could compare what he felt towards her. She simply enchanted him and he couldn't keep his eyes off her. It was most annoying.

"Where have you gone, Darcy? I can see a look on your face that I've never seen before."

With difficulty Darcy returned his attention to his cousin. "What do you suppose the family would say if I chose a bride that was beneath my station?"

Richard choked on his wine and stared at his favorite cousin. "Not Caroline Bingley!"

Darcy groaned, "do be serious, Richard. I'm asking you a hypothetical question. What trouble could I expect?"

After a moment Richard shrugged, "A loud talking to by my father, hysterics from Lady Catherine and weeping and wailing from the mothers of the Ton. Who do you have in mind?"

"No one in particular. Just wondering."

"Darcy, you are your own man, wealthy and well respected. You can do whatever you wish. What do you care what the rest of the world thinks of you? If you find the right woman you'd be a fool not to marry her."

Darcy knew it wasn't that easy. He supposed that his cousin looked at life differently, being in the military. When you weren't sure you'd live through the next battle it was easy to think only of survival and living to a ripe old age with the woman of your choice by your side. Darcy's family had so many expectations. They wanted to expand the family's wealth and joining Rosing's Park to Pemberley was a step in the right direction. Then there was Georgianna to think of. He wanted her to marry well and that meant that he should marry well. He stood and began to pace restlessly before finally approaching the window that looked down at the path that led to the parsonage. Mr. Collins was heading towards Rosing's Park, leading his wife and her sister. As usual he was animated, no doubt enumerating all the splendors before him. Darcy fastened his eyes on Elizabeth. She looked bored which brought a smile to his face. When he turned to announce their guest's arrival, he was startled at the amused look in Richard's eyes. "What amuses you, cousin?"

"You," Richard replied.

When the party from Hunsford entered the drawing room at Rosing's Park the first thing Darcy noticed was that Elizabeth looked so very beautiful in her plain yellow muslin. The second thing he noticed was that she had been weeping. He approached her and bowed, "you look lovely this evening, Miss Bennet. I trust you are well," he added with concern.

Elizabeth was shocked. It was the first time Mr. Darcy had ever spoken to her beyond mumbling her name in greeting. "I'm very well, thank you for asking."

"And your family? They are well I hope."

"Yes sir. I believe they are."

Pleased with how well his first conversation with Miss Bennet had gone, Darcy turned away and returned to the window to stare at nothing.

Across the room Richard rolled his eyes at Anne. "I told him to beguile her with his intelligence and wit. He's either a fast worker or she thinks he's dim-witted."

Anne and Georgianna had delayed their greeting of Elizabeth to give Darcy some time alone with her. It had taken all of two seconds. The girls weren't sure whether they should be amused or dismayed. They both hurried to Elizabeth and noted the bemused look on her face. "It was such a lovely afternoon, Lizzie," Anne said. "My cousin Richard is quite put out. He insists that he and Darcy be invited to our next outing."

"I'm not sure Mr. Collins would approve," Elizabeth said. "He's given precise instructions to me. I am not allowed to use my arts and allurements on Mr. Darcy for he is to be married to you, Anne."

Anne threw her head back and laughed hard. "He didn't really say that!"

Elizabeth managed a wry smile, "indeed he did. Not only that, but I am not to forward my acquaintance with you or Georgianna"

This information did not sit well with Anne but before she had a chance to speak Lady Catherine demanded to know what was so amusing."

"Stupidity, mother."

"Well, I'm an expert on stupidity. You must share."

Elizabeth dared a glance at Darcy who had turned from the window and was now staring at his aunt in disbelief.

Georgianna had started to giggle and Mr. Collins was glaring at Elizabeth. Anne looked at Richard who had a bemused look on his freckled face and her face softened staring at the love of her life. When she finally looked at her mother, Lady Catherine was regarding her daughter with narrowed eyes. Anne held her mother's eyes for a long moment before turning away.

When dinner was announced Richard approached his aunt and Anne joined them. It was left to Darcy to escort Georgianna and Elizabeth into the dining room.

When he'd settled both ladies he took his own seat and stared around almost as if he had never been in the room before. The light touch of Elizabeth hand on his arm had made him feel weak and he wondered if he was having an out of the body experience he's heard others talk of. He was desperate to look at her but was just as determined not to look at her. Beside him, Georgianna whispered, "are you well, brother?" He nodded and did not look at her so missed the sweet but knowing smile on her face. Lady Catherine, however, did see it and frowned.

Dinner began on an interesting note for Lady Catherine had absolutely nothing to say, a fact so remarkable it unnerved all her guests except for Mr. Collins who as the clergyman and in his own small mind the only person of any real significance, took the conversational lead. Absurdity and idiocy accompanied an excellent first course.

They were well into the second course when Lady Catherine finally waved her cleric to silence and addressed Elizabeth. "You are very quiet this evening, Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"I have instructed my dear cousin," Mr. Collins said with an oily smile, "that pride and stubbornness and in short all manner of wickedness, is the greatest folly we can be possessed of, and constantly turns on the head of that foolish person who does not conquer and get the better of all inclination to such weakness."

In the silence that followed this pronouncement, Darcy spoke quietly, "I too have been instructed by my dear cousin on how deport myself this evening. I'm not to glare or growl, but really, Mr. Collins, I've never heard such a heap of tripe in my life. How long did it take you to memorize such rubbish? And to what end?"

Mr. Collins looked confused and turned to his patroness for assistance. Lady Catherine chose to ignore him but instead addressed Elizabeth once more. "I understand Miss Bennet that you feel great distress over the loss of your friend Miss Lucas."

Once more Mr. Collins answered for Elizabeth, "I'm afraid my dear cousin does not know a woman's place. A woman should accept her lot in life and never complain about what she sees as an injustice for we know that women have no true understanding of anything."

Darcy signaled a servant to remove his plate. "You see no good in a woman mourning the companionship of a friend?"

Mr. Collins had puffed himself up by being in conversation with such an esteemed gentleman as Darcy and didn't see the danger looming ahead of him. "I fear she reads too many novels, Mr. Darcy. What shall we say of certain books, which we are assured (for we have not read them) are in their nature so shameful, in their tendency so pestiferous, and contain such rank treason against the rightful role of a women who should always be subservient. They are such a horrible violation of all decorum, that she who can bear to peruse them must in her soul be a prostitute which must be my cousin's only excuse."

Georgianna gasped and Elizabeth reached her hand across the table and patted her hand in comfort. Richard and Anne reacted like they'd been shot as they stared at Mr. Collins who once more looked confused. In her own shock and disbelief Elizabeth saw a half-smile on Darcy's face as he stared off into space. He looked positively pleased with himself.

Lady Catherine De Bourgh had turned an icy look on her cleric and watched him shrink in terror as he realized his error. "Next Sunday your sermon will be about a woman's place, Mr. Collins. And I would much enjoy your thoughts on just how lacking in understanding we women are. I will see you in my study at ten o'clock on the morrow. Do not disappoint me."

Darcy turned to his aunt, "I suggest you also instruct him on the way to address his dear cousin, reminding him that he is but a servant of the Lord while Miss Elizabeth is a gentleman's daughter." He turned to Mr. Collins, "perhaps you should return to the seminary and take a refresher course on empathy."

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. Before they adjourned to the drawing room for coffee, Lady Catherine addressed Elizabeth once more. "It would please me, Miss Bennet, to hear you play again. This time perhaps you might entertain us with some Mozart and Bach...just as long as it sounds like Beethoven. A sonata, perhaps?" When Elizabeth nodded Lady Catherine allowed a smile. "Splendid," she said and led her guests from the room. 


	10. RANDOM THOUGHTS

There was no separation of the sexes when dinner was over. Darcy and Richard had no inclination to spend more time in the company of Mr. Collins who was now pasty white and seemed to have shrunk. When Elizabeth returned to the drawing room she decided to distance herself from Mr. Collins. His pallor was frightening and she saw his hands shaking when he accepted a cup of coffee from Mary. She went straight to the pianoforte and began to play a Beethoven sonata as instructed. She dared not let her mind dwell on the scene that had taken place moments before or she would start to laugh and she wasn't sure that once started, she would be able to stop. 

She also decided to keep her eyes wide open and not allow her mind to wander to any mysterious land like Greece or the peak district of Derbyshire. If the thought of Greece could conger up visions of marble nudes sans fig leafs, no telling what she would find dotting the landscape of Derbyshire. At this silly reflection she shook her head and lowered her eyes to the keyboard enjoying a smile at her own expense. Moments later she sensed rather then saw Mr. Darcy approach. When she looked up and saw him standing so close and regarding her with one of his quizzical smiles her heart nearly stopped. "You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming all this way to hear me? For if that was your aim you have succeeded most admirably. I have been trying not to fly to the Aegean Sea but my wings simply will not cooperate. They are flapping in the wind and now I fear that it is a hopeless situation."

Darcy's smile deepened at her playfulness, "so that's where you went last night. And what did you see while managing to make Beethoven sound suspiciously like Mozart and Bach."

Elizabeth felt her color rise. "Oh dear, how ungallant you are to refer to my impertinence of last night."

"On the contrary, Miss Bennet. I found great amusement in your... mistake."

"In that case, in answer to your question, I didn't visit the Parthenon or the Acropolis. I walked barefoot along the sea and allowed the wind to whip my hair into a frenzy." Elizabeth grinned at her whimsical description and arched a brow. "I fear I disappoint."

"That is not possible, Miss Bennet."

Well, she thought, Georgianna said her brother was sweet and funny when you got to know him and indeed he was, which made him twice as dangerous. And here she sat flirting with him which was tantamount to playing with fire. She inched closer to the flame. "You don't really know me, Mr. Darcy."

Whatever he might have responded she would never know for Mary approached to say that Mr. Collins was feeling poorly and wished to return to the parsonage. Her disappointment was keen but she attempted to mask it. She stood up immediately and bid him good night, "it's been a pleasure, Mr. Darcy."

"The pleasure was all mine, Miss Bennet."

They made it back to the parsonage just in time for Mr. Collins to alight and lose his most excellent dinner. The sounds of his retching and weeping made Elizabeth almost feel sorry for him. Almost. She left Mary to tend to her husband and ran into the house hardly able to contain her laughter. How the mighty had fallen. It was an uncharitable thought but if anyone needed to be knocked off his high horse it was her dear cousin, William Collins. She hurried to her room and undressed quickly anxious to crawl into her bed so she could think.

It had been an evening to remember starting when Mr. Darcy had approached her with a greeting and a compliment. She was so shocked that he had finally deigned to speak to her she hardily knew how to respond before he turned away to examine the window once more. When Anne and Georgianna joined her she was still bemused by the experience of having him stand so close to her, hearing the sound of his deep voice as he addressed her so gently. But worse was to come. When he once more approached her and offered his arm, time slowed down as he closed the space between them. When she took his arm she made the mistake of looking up into his eyes and realized that she was lost and the thought gave her little pleasure. There could be no future for them despite what Anne and Georgianna might think. By the time he had helped her to her chair her mind had gone blank and numb.

She didn't rouse from her distraction until she realized that Lady Catherine had addressed her and her loquacious cousin was answering for her. Then she heard Mr. Darcy speaking. Still she could not rouse herself to make sense of what was taking place. It wasn't until she heard the word 'prostitute' drop that her senses came alive with a jolt. She came to her feet and wasn't sure what she planned to do next, but fortunately, hearing a gasp from Georgianna kept her from committing mayhem on her cousin. Instead she reached a hand to Georgianna who she was sure had never heard such a word uttered at the dinner table. She remembered how she had made an oblique reference to the Meryton prostitute and how her father has responded with quick anger. What on earth could Mr. Collins be thinking to make such a statement at Lady Catherine's table, of all places? For Mary's sake, she remained silent though inside she was gloating. Her gloating lasted until Lady Catherine slyly acknowledged that she did know the difference between Beethoven and Mozart.

Then came their flirtatious exchange after dinner. Remembering how he had looked at her caused her thoughts to grow chaotic and she rose from her bed and stood staring out the window wondering what he was thinking. And if he was thinking of her? She wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly or was it just a sexual attraction. She had read enough books and read between the lines to acknowledge that there was such a thing though she had never seen it at work. Common sense told her that there had to have been something between her own parents which had produced five children, but she had never seen any passion beyond an occasional kiss on the cheek. The same held true for Charlotte's parents as well as the Longs and the Phillips. The Gardiners were in another class, however. Elizabeth had seen the looks they exchanged, the fond touches they allowed themselves even in company and they had four lovely children to show for it.

Being a romantic and very young, she had once asked Charlotte if it was possible that God had created one hundred perfect mates for everyone, then disbursed them all over the world. All you had to do was find that one person who would make you whole. Was it possible that she had found her soul mate across a narrow lane? It would be so much better than to have to travel to outer Mongolia to find a husband. After an exhausting night of listening to the wailing of Mr. Collins bemoaning his fall from grace and the soothing sounds of his wife trying to console him Elizabeth fell into a fitful sleep still thinking about Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Across the narrow lane the moment Elizabeth left the room Darcy mourned her loss. She was so damned bewitching she was beginning to get on his nerves. She was like no other woman he'd ever met and knew he was in danger of succumbing to her arts and allurements but was beginning to think that surrendering to her might be a very pleasant experience. More than pleasant. Closer to bliss. He didn't dare go further with his thoughts for he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do next.

When the ladies finally retired to their rooms Darcy and Richard headed for the library where they helped themselves to generous amounts of an excellent brandy. After several comfortable minutes relaxing in their very comfortable chairs Richard suggested that they should hire Mr. Collins for all the parties they attended in the future. "He is the most entertaining man of the cloth I've ever known. His pronouncements are so hilarious I'm afraid to take a bite of food or a sip of wine whenever he opens his mouth to speak for fear I'll choke to death.

"Amused, were you?"

"Indeed I was! Almost as amused by your disposal of him. You didn't see the way he puffed himself up when you addressed him. He's so dense I don't think he even heard what you were saying, only that it was Darcy of Pemberley who was saying it. And I know you won't believe this, Darce, but I swear that I saw a slight smirk on Lady Catherine's face as you toyed with him."

"What did you think of Lady Catherine's this evening?"

"Dare I say she seemed more thoughtful tonight? I haven't decided whether she's scariest when she speaks or when she doesn't."

"What did you think of her remark that she was an expert on stupidity?"

Richard shrugged, "just her usual inane remark. Why?"

"Richard, what would you say if I suggested that our esteemed aunt is not as stupid as she makes herself out to be."

"I'd say that was wishful thinking. She is as dense and stupid as we've known for years. If the opposite were true, that would make us...?"

"Dense and stupid?"

Richard frowned, "That's too embarrassing to contemplate! What would be the point of acting the fool?"

"Beyond a warped sense of humor, I have no idea. But while you were making yourself so agreeable to the ladies this evening, I was watching her and I saw something in her eyes I haven't seen in years."

"And that was?"

"I haven't quite decided. But it wasn't a silly old woman watching her guests. She seemed particularly interested in you and Anne. And I don't think she liked what she saw."

"Anne and me? I can't believe that. Anne and I are just friends."

"True. But Lady Catherine is foremost a mother. And Anne is beautiful, intelligent and very, very rich. Now that she's regained her health, she's become a very desirable woman. Any man with a modicum of sense could see that she would be a catch."

"But what has that got to do with me? Surely our aunt doesn't think I'm trying to steal Anne from you? How could I compete with the Master of Pemberley."

Darcy hid a sigh with a sip of brandy. Talk about dense and stupid. There were few people who knew what job Richard had in His Majesty's armed services. Darcy was one of them. Richard was an undercover agent...a spy. What the hell kind of a spy he was Darcy dared not imagine. If he couldn't see the way Anne looked at him or what Darcy was gently suggesting, there was a good chance that the English would be speaking French within the year.

"What on earth are you smiling at?"

You, cousin. Just you"

"Never mind me. If what you say about Lady Catherine is true, you might be in serious trouble, cousin. If she was as intrigued as I was watching Miss Elizabeth regarding you during your tete-a-tete at the pianoforte you'll be in for a lecture before nightfall tomorrow."

"And how did Miss Bennet look at me?"

Richard grinned broadly. "As I gazed at you both I was reminded of Adam and Eve."

Darcy rolled his eyes. "They were kicked out of paradise."

"Romeo and Juliet?"

"Two suicides."

"Eloise and Abelard?"

"For heavens sake, Richard. He was castrated for his pains."

"I give up. How about just, plain Darcy and Elizabeth?"

"There's nothing plain about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Richard."

"And exactly what are you going to do about it?"

"I have no idea."

Richard's amusement grew as he regarded his cousin. He knew Darcy had never been in love and was having a hard time coping with his feelings. He'd been raised in a society expecting much from the heir to the vast estate of Pemberley and he had always been obedient to the wishes of his family. Now he was seven and twenty, lonely for a companionship that only a woman could offer and she was not what he had expected. She was more. She was pert and saucy and not at all impressed by his wealth and station in life and she was lovely. He saw wedding bells in his cousin's future and it was about time.

Yes, it had been quite an evening. The clown from the parsonage had been entertaining, Darcy had actually spoken to Miss Bennet, Lady Catherine had behaved herself, and Anne looked radiant. He had forgotten just how beautiful Anne had been in youth. Now that she had regained her health, the men would be after her. He hoped that she was smart enough to avoid the fortune hunters that would be swarming all over her once she returned to Town. He would make it a point to visit her every chance he got. Just to look after her.

Elizabeth still felt groggy when she finally made her way down to the breakfast room. Her prayers were answered when Mary informed her that Lady Catherine had not treated Mr. Collins too harshly. His penance was that Sunday's sermon would set forth all the reasons that the world was a better place because of women. Mary actually chuckled when she repeated Lady Catherine's admonitions. "She has directed that the title of Sunday's sermon be 'The Natural Superiority of Women.'"

Elizabeth smiled thinking how busy Mr. Collins would be for the next several days. "I'm relieved, Mary. I was afraid Lady Catherine would send him packing."

"Oh, no, Lizzie. She wouldn't do that. She knows I'm with child and she is quite solicitous. She wants me to use the sickroom at Rosings when my time is near."

Wonders never ceased.

Richard was half right when he predicted that Lady Catherine would have a few chosen words to impart on the morrow but it wasn't to Darcy. She planned to speak to Anne and had her summoned as soon as she disposed of Mr. Collins.

She had just spent an exhausting hour with Mr. Collins putting up with his sniveling apologies and was hard pressed not to lose her temper with this poor excuse of a man. She must have been crazy to hire him...or drunk. She'd been imbibing a bit too freely in the past few years and that had to be her only excuse for hiring such a dunce. His ignoble stupidity had lost it's appeal and she wanted nothing more than to rid herself of him but she couldn't. She had his poor misguided wife to think of now. She had demanded that he seek a wife and he had, much to her surprise. Now the poor girl was with child. The repercussions on Mary would be too severe to contemplate. She was stuck with Mr. Collins.

Now she had to worry about Anne. If her eyes didn't deceive, her beloved daughter was heading for heartbreak and she wasn't sure she could bear it if Anne was hurt. Her illness had robbed her of so many good years. Now if she had given her heart to Richard her future would be bleak. It was all too much.

When Anne entered the room Lady Catherine wasted no time. "What exactly is going on between you and Richard?" she demanded.

Her mother's bluntness surprised her though she was not surprised at the question. Since Richard's arrival she had felt Lady Catherine's eyes on her, examining, quizzical and thoughtful at various times. Anne supposed her love of Richard showed on her face. Darcy and Georgianna were aware of it for she didn't bother to hide it from them and now her mother had seen it too. The only one not in on her secret was Richard himself, poor lamb.

"Nothing, unfortunately."

"And when did this 'nothing' begin?"

"I cannot fix on the hour or the spot, or the look or the words which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun. But begin, I did. And it's no passing fancy if that's what you're thinking. "

"Oh Anne," Lady Catherine sighed, "you're looking for heartbreak. Richard is a soldier and a playboy. He isn't looking to connect himself to one woman. He doesn't want to worry about a wife and children. How many times have you heard him say that?"

"He doesn't have to stay in the army."

"And you can also forget about him and marry Darcy."

Anne shook her head violently, "no, I can't. I adore Darcy, but I don't want him as a husband any more than he wants me as his wife. Mother, I'm a wealthy woman and you can't send me off to Norfolk to be a governess for someone else's children and you can't force me to marry a man not of my own choice. I am going to Town and open the townhouse and I want you to come with me."

Lady Catherine stared at her daughter in shock. "To what purpose?"

"For the last ten years we've been patient and nurse. It's time we become what we were before my illness. I want to be mother and daughter again. I want us to go to town and go on a spending spree. Paint, paper, drapes and furniture. I want the house brand new. And when we're done, I want us to entertain lavishly. I want the world to know that the De Bourghs are back in town. We've been prisoners here at Rosings for too long and it's time to put an end to it."

Lady Catherine offered a wry smile, "and is this how you plan to capture Richard's heart?"

"I already have his heart, mother. He just doesn't know it yet."

Charles Bingley entered his townhouse in a much lighter mood than he'd been in when he'd left London the week before. He'd lingered in Hertfordshire on the pretense of studying the Netherfield house and grounds but in reality he was really studying Miss Jane Bennet. He found her a delightful creature and was sure he was in love again but remembering the many admonitions of his best friend Darcy, he was going to take it slowly this time. There would be no rushing to make his intentions towards her obvious. Attending so many balls and dinners with Darcy he'd had numerous occasions to observe the machinations of mothers on the prowl for it was universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife whether he wanted one or not.. Mrs. Frances Bennet had taken this truism to heart and had chosen him as her future son-in-law and had no qualms about showing it. Of the two assemblies and four dinners he'd enjoyed during the past week there was never an occasion when Mrs. Bennet hadn't sung Jane's praises while denigrating the charms of any other young ladies in attendance. If Charles Bingley hadn't been so kindhearted he would have laughed openly at Mrs. Bennet's obvious ploys. He smiled thinking of how Darcy would react to such a mother though there was little chance that the Master of Pemberley would ever connect himself to the Bennets of Longbourn.

He was still smiling when he entered his drawing room and saw his sister Caroline standing in almost the same spot he'd last seen her. This time, however, her face was not contorted with anger but a smile of welcome. "Charles, what a lovely surprise. I've missed you."

He studied her warily. As usual, Caroline had ignored his directive not to be here when he returned. "Have you? I thought I was your least favorite brother."

Caroline laughed, "you're my only brother and I love you dearly. I want to apologize for my words last week. I don't know what got into me. Will you forgive me?"

Bingley wasn't fooled for a minute but was determined to hold onto his good mood. He also thought it was an opportune moment to break the news of what he had done. He watched her carefully as he imparted his news. She did not disappoint. Her face drained of color as she stared into the eyes of her brother. Then she turned from him but said nothing. He continued to regard her in silence until he saw her shrug and turn back to him. "If you have only leased the estate then no real harm has been done. In fact, it might be a very clever move on your part, Charles. It will prepare you to be a gentleman farmer with little risk. Indeed, the more I think of it, the more I'm pleased. Mr. Darcy has often said that he would be pleased to teach you how to run an estate and now you can hold him to his promise. I, of course, will be delighted to be your hostess."

Bingley nodded in agreement and poured them both a glass of wine. He had to admire his sister for her quickness of mind. From shock and anger her brain had moved from dismay to the reality of living in the same house with Fitzwilliam Darcy for several weeks. There she would be able to show him what a remarkable woman she was. She would show him her prowess as mistress of an estate and dine with him at least twice a day. It was an opportunity heaven sent and Caroline couldn't contain her rising spirits. Bingley regarded his sister in growing amusement tinged with sadness. Darcy would never succumb to her charms but she still clung to her dream of winning him. Poor Darcy. Poor Caroline.


	11. LETTERS

Catherine Fitzwilliam was the eldest of three children born to a wealthy family and had led an idyllic childhood at the vast Matlock estate in Derbyshire. She was the only child for two years when Henry, the heir was born followed a year later by her sister Anne. Catherine adored her younger siblings especially Anne who within six months of her birth presaged the beauty she would become. She would be the golden girl and her parents were vocal in the difference between their two daughters. Where Anne was delicate and blond, Catherine was dark and plain. By the time Catherine reached the age of eighteen and made her debut in London Society she understood that her life would be vastly different from that of her sister but had come to terms with it. What she lacked in beauty she made up with a dry wit that was always gentle in spirit, never hurting and often aimed at herself. Her easy self-mockery and her kindness towards others made her a popular guest and she took every opportunity to improve her mind and social skills. She studied the guests at a party and discovered that the secret to being an excellent hostess was to gather a collection of people who were like-minded and eager to be entertained. It was a simple enough rule that many hostesses ignored which doomed their parties to dull affairs. Catherine's parties were full of laughter and interesting debates and were much talked of, invariably receiving high praise in the London Times.

The years following her debut saw her brother marry Regina Throckmorton who gave Henry three healthy children, and her sister Anne marry George Darcy and become the mistress of a fabled estate called Pemberley in Derbyshire. When Anne Darcy gave birth to her son Catherine began to feel a sense of loss and longing for her own child. She had received two marriage offers but had declined both as one of her suitors was a notorious gambler and the other an infamous womanizer. She had no regrets living her life as a spinster for her life was full and she was not particularly romantic but after her nieces and nephews were born she began to yearn for her own child.

She was four and twenty when she met Lewis DeBourgh at a ball. He was tall and austere but seemed kind and actually smiled at some of her witticisms. He was twenty years her senior, had never been married, was wealthy and in possession of a vast estate in Kent. After some consideration Catherine determined to marry him and succeeded six months later for she was in desperate need of a child and he thought it might be nice to have a wife who could entertain so well. He did love a good party.

On her wedding night she discovered that her new husband preferred to drink most of the contents of a bottle of brandy and retire to his own rooms rather than seek connubial bliss in the arms of his bride. Undaunted she gave him three months to consummate the marriage before she took matters into her own hands and with some difficulty managed to seduce him one night. After that she invaded his rooms once a week until she gained what she wanted and conceived her child. It was the last time she would ever share a bed with her husband. She doubted he even noticed or missed her defection.

Since there was no emotional attachment they never argued and were always respectful of each other. Though a cold and distant man he was kind and generous and she made sure his life was tranquil and would never suffer a moment of regret for his choice of wife. By societal standards the marriage was a great success for each got what they wanted; he, a hostess, she, a child.

When he died seventeen years later she was shocked and distressed but not inconsolable for his aloofness made him impossible to love though she had grown fond of him and mourned his loss. She contented herself in the knowledge that she had been a good wife and he had died a contented man. After the mourning period she planned to continue her lifestyle of splitting her time between Town and Rosing's Park. Then came Anne's illness and her life turned to ashes. To see her lovely and intelligent daughter fade before her eyes brought her such unbearable pain that she sometimes thought she teetered on the brink of madness. In the dead of night her sorrow and loneliness became a living, breathing entity.

But that was all behind her. Her daughter had survived her mysterious illness and now at the age of two and fifty she was ready to pick up the pieces of her life again but after so many years had lost the self-assurance that is a part of youth. She was once more free not sure she was confident enough to take her proper place in London's society. However, the prospect was inviting...nay, exciting.

After her talk with Anne, she spent the rest of the day in her rooms needing time to think. When she had a tray sent to her room instead of dining with her guests she had to assure her daughter that she was neither ill nor angry. The second time Anne invaded her rooms looking worried and contrite, Lady Catherine lost patience, "for heaven's sake, Anne. Go play with your cousins and leave me to think. I'll see you in the morning."

It was dark before she approached her desk wondering where she should begin. Most of her friends had gotten on with their lives in the lost years except for Regina Fitzwilliam, her sister-in-law. Reggie had remained constant in her friendship, always writing amusing letters, always encouraging, always visiting, always teasing her for hiring William Collins. Lady Catherine smiled remembering the first time Regina had been introduced to the cleric and her disbelief that Lady Catherine had hired a character from a comic opera as her spiritual guardian. Her letters always closed with her regards to Mr. Collins.

Dear Regina,

I've been sitting at my desk for the past hour staring at a blank sheet of paper wondering where to start. I suppose I should begin by saying you were right and I was wrong. I hasten to add that I bear you no ill-will for being justified in your advice to dismiss all hope of Darcy and Anne marrying, which considering the event of this morning, shows a greatness of mind. Herein you will find a five pound note. That will teach me to gamble and give you a hint of the news I wish to impart.

It was long overdue, but I finally confronted Anne. I know, Reggie, that the rumors are rampant in the family that my scheme to unite them was based on greed to connect Rosing's Park with Pemberley. I believe you know better. I have been so worried about the state of Anne's health, so fearful that if something happened to me she would be left to the not so tender mercies of every rake in England. All I ever wanted was Anne to be safe and secure with a kind of man who would respect and care for her but Anne has made it quite clear that she has no intention of marrying Darcy and she would not brook any argument. Oh Reggie, you should have seen her. She's now the picture of health and has regained the spirit which has been lying dormant for the past several years. I admit to a mild disappointment but I'm far from heart-broken. Now that she has recovered her strength, she reminds me of myself when I was her age. Quite resolute and rather opinionated! Actually I'm rather proud of her. After my conversation with Anne concerning her future I believe I no longer have to worry about her and I pity the blackguard that crosses her path.

Now, I must speak of your scalawag of a son. She declares that Richard is the one she loves and according to her it has been ever thus. I remember how you once said that Anne would better suit Richard but as usual, I disregarded your words, fixated as I was on a union with Darcy. I tried to remind her that Richard is not the marrying kind, but she has made up her mind. I fear, Reggie, that Anne is too much like her mother. Stubborn to a fault. She's quite sure that he loves her, but just doesn't know it yet. That could very well be possible. At times he appears to be clueless. There are other times I suspect he dons a mask when it suits him. In many ways he's as difficult to read as Darcy is. Where Darcy tends to stare and frown, Richard is a natural born flirt with such a sunny disposition that men and women are drawn to him. Have you never wondered how two such disparate men could be such close friends? During the many sleepless nights I endured for the past ten years I've idly speculated that each of them might have unplumbed depths that their family has never been privy to. But, I suppose, that's just my imagination.

But I digress! Anne's confidence in a happy outcome dismayed me and I made a half-hearted attempt to disabuse her of this notion citing his occupation and the many times he's stated that he was not inclined to marry, but on further consideration dropped the subject. I have noticed how he does seek her company. I've also observed how his eyes frequently follow her. Perhaps he does love her. We can only wait and hope that there will be a happy ending for both their sakes.

And now to my point. Anne plans to go to Town and take me with her. She wants to spend a fortune and refurbish the townhouse, then hold lavish parties and spend more money. She plans for us to stay with Darcy and Georgie. I think, however, it might be better if we stay with you if you'd be kind enough to invite us. It will give us a chance to get reacquainted and I know how you love to shop and your knowledge of the latest fashions would be an added bonus for I have been out of touch for so long I'm not sure I can rely on my own judgment. It has the added benefit of staying in Richard's home. Whenever he comes to Town he usually stays with Darcy. If he stays at home while Anne is there maybe she knows what she's talking about. That is as far as I wish to interfere in her plans. What do you think? Please, Reggie, don't leave me in suspense, and write as soon as may be.

Love, Cathy

The next few days slipped by under sunny skies and picnics by the creek. Darcy and Richard often joined the ladies. Richard charmed and flirted while Darcy remained silent but interested, offering little to the conversation. There had been a time when Elizabeth might have thought him proud and disagreeable but she now recognized his quiet ways and always included him in her arch musings. She was always rewarded by a twinkle in his dark eyes as his mouth softened. It was at moments like that when she silently offered a prayer that he had no idea of the effect he had on her. She found it increasingly difficult to tear her eyes away from his. She dared not think of what could be for she was sure it could never be. And a harmless flirtation couldn't hurt. At least she hoped it couldn't.

Ten days after her arrival in Kent, she received a letter from Jane which startled and confirmed her feelings that Darcy could never consider her as the mistress of Pemberley.

My dearest sister,

Oh Lizzie, where to start? But be not alarmed for we are all well. It's just that so many unexpected things have occurred since you left Longbourn. The happiest news is that Netherfield is let at last by a young man who has proved to be very affable. He is just what a young man should be, sensible, good humored, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! Oh Lizzie, I feel myself blushing when I say that he is also a very handsome young man. And he's an excellent dancer as I learned during the two assemblies he attended before returning to Town. He will be taking up residence within the month and I'm sure he will make a very amiable neighbor.

Of course Mother is already making wedding plans. She is spreading rumors far and wide and I fear that there is no one left in all of Hertfordshire who hasn't heard the news. Mother seems to think that wishing will make it so. I truly don't understand how our Mother can't see that her words are more apt to chase a possible suitor away. I can't imagine what could cool a young man's ardor quicker than hearing that he is betrothed to a woman whom he has known for no more than a week. I do wish Father would speak to her but as usual he finds great amusement in her fantasies. She is spoiling everything, Lizzie.

And now I must speak of an extraordinary event that took place a few days after you left Longbourn. We got word that the militia will be transferred to Brighton shortly and Mother invited Colonel Forster and several of his officers for tea and Father actually left his library and socialized with them. Later when our family sat down for dinner he remained quiet listening to Lydia and Kitty going on and on about the officers the way they always do and he said not a word. When dessert was served and the servants had left the room he suddenly slammed his hand down on the table and yelled at them 'enough!'. He never raises his voice so we were all shocked to say the least. Fortunately he lowered his voice but he left no doubt that he was seriously displeased with our sisters. They are not to go any further than the garden gates, attend any dinners or assemblies for a full month. He has suspended their allowances also. When they screamed and cried at his words he stood up and commanded them to go to their room and added that for the following week they would have all their meals in their room.

My dear Lizzie I believe that our father has finally taken your distress over our sister's deportment to heart and I can't help but think it might be the best thing that could happen to our family. Kitty has been much subdued since that night though I must admit Lydia still doesn't understand that father is quite resolute and will still quarrel with him not realizing that she is only prolonging her punishment. She is loud and inconsolable that she might never see Lieutenant Wickham again. Mother's nerves are raw and I confess so are mine.

Oh Lizzie! Since writing the above our trials have been made even more severe. Colonel Forster's wife has invited Lydia to join her in Brighton which has sent both Lydia and Kitty into hysterics. Lydia spends most of the day boasting of her good fortune and Kitty seems to think she should have been invited also despite the fact that she is not a close friend of Mrs. Forster.

At first Father refused Lydia permission but she eventually wore him down and he relented. So Lydia is to go to Brighton and she and Mother are both ecstatic and spending a small fortune on a new wardrobe. Lydia seems to think that the entire British Army will be delighted with her appearance at every event and Mother is quite positive that she will find a husband and return home in triumph. I dared to question Father about his decision but he assured me that we would never know a moment's peace if she wasn't allowed to go and this is true enough but I feel uneasy. I can only hope that everything will turn out well.

I do miss you my dearest sister. Give Mary my best and do write soon and tell me all about Kent.

Jane

Elizabeth read and re-read the letter from Jane then slid the letter across the table, "Mary, read this. The first part gave me some hope for our family. The last part makes my family seem hopeless."

Mary quickly scanned the letter and shook her head. "I fear that Lydia is determined to bring ruin on all of us."

"But she is penniless, Mary, and surely she can't get into too much trouble while under the protection of Colonel Forster."

"She is willful and ungoverned, Lizzie. We've known that for years. Men are not governed by the morals which women must adhere to. Have you ever heard of a man being ruined by his libertine ways? Have we not both heard of the men who gamble their fortunes away yet are still accepted into the finest homes? And what of the man who seduces high and low-born woman? He is called a roue or rake and the appellation is invariably applied with a wink and smirk. There are no comparative words to describe the wanton actions of a woman. She is labeled a slut and whore and that appellation is applied with a sneer."

Elizabeth was horrified and disheartened by Mary's words. The pleasures of her time in Kent began to fade with the fear of what Lydia might do to destroy the reputation of her family. Still, she refused to believe that Lydia was so devoid of common sense that she would willfully bring shame upon all of them and she had to cling to this hope. It was not in her nature to dwell on unavoidable evils and augment them with anxiety.

Another day passed and Lady Catherine received a response from her sister-in-law.

Cathy!

You know not the joy I felt in receiving your letter. Of course you are invited to stay as long as need be. I've already given directions to air and clean two suites for you and Anne. As for spending money, you have the right of it but to help bankrupt you has left me in a state of delirium. There are so many new shops in town and so many choices to be made that I fear that we will go mad before we can make a final decision. But what fun it will be. I am already making out a tentative guest list for the dinner party I shall hold in honor of your return to Town. Give my love to that scalawag son of mine and a hug to Darcy and Georgie. I just can't wait to see you. Write soon. And give my regards to Mr. Collins.

Reggie

The letter from Charlotte that arrived a week before Elizabeth was to return to Longbourn astounded and delighted her.

Dear Lizzie,

Forgive me for not responding to your letter as quickly as I might have but I confess that I haven't had the stamina nor the will to take pen to paper. Even now I find great difficulty in relating the dreadful occurrence of three weeks past when the entire household was awakened by the shrill screams of Mrs. Appleton's personal maid. She'd gone into her mistress's room to rouse her and found her dead. By the time I'd managed to throw a robe on and run to see what had happened, Mr. Appleton was there also, holding his wife and crying out her name. Then the twins descended on the room and the pandemonium was complete.

As I mentioned to you in my previous letters, Mrs. Appleton had never fully recovered from the birth of her last child and though her doctors assured Mr. Appleton that time would heal, it was not to be. I fear that our doctors know little of the female anatomy and have to rely on the information supplied by a midwife. I know that it's a blasphemous thought to hold that modesty should not play a part in giving birth to a child, but I am convinced that fewer women would die in the process if the doctor could actually examine her. I begin to think, my dear Lizzie, that our local pharmacists know as much as our doctors do and are much less expensive.

Mr. Appleton is distraught with grief. How many silly novels we've indulged ourselves with where grief seemed so romantic. But the reality of the situation is somewhat different. He is father to four children who have lost their mother and this is not the time for the hero to pine away for the loss of his true love. For the past two weeks I've seen the disintegration of a family and it breaks my heart to witness it.

One of Mrs. Appleton's sisters has already arrived and taken the two youngest back with her to her home in Ireland. Mr. Appleton's mother insists that the twins go live with her in London. Mr. Appleton seems unaware of what is taking place and I must admit it does him no credit to cede away his responsibilities so easily no matter how much he loved his wife. I can only hope that he regains his reason and at least takes his sons back before too much time passes. I am to take them to London in a few days and deliver them into their grandmother's welcoming arms. I shall stay for a couple of days until the children are well settled and then bid them farewell. I will miss them sorely as they are really quite a delightful pair and are being so brave despite this terrible heartbreak.

Mr. Appleton has been more than generous with my severance pay and has given me excellent references so by the time you receive this letter I will be unemployed and preparing for my return to Lucas Lodge. I am exhausted, Lizzie, both in body and spirit and look forward to seeing all my dear family and friends once more. I especially look forward to seeing you, my dearest friend.

Charlotte

Elizabeth was ashamed at the joy she felt knowing her happiness had come at such a heavy cost to the Appleton family and she was much subdued as she imparted her news to Anne and Georgie later that afternoon when she was invited to tea.

"What will Miss Charlotte do now, Lizzie?" Georgianna inquired gently.

"I have no idea, Georgie, but I think when she applies for another job it should be as a companion. She's wise and well-read. I have always found her excellent company. We used to indulge in the Socratic method and sometimes our conclusions were hilarious. She truly opened the world to me. It will be wonderful to see her again."

Anne and Georgie were very pleased for her and Richard offered sincere congratulations for her hardly suppressed joy while Darcy regarded her absently wondering where he should place her likeness in the portrait hall at Pemberley. At this unbidden thought he turned away but not soon enough to escape the scrutiny of his esteemed Aunt, Lady Catherine. That lady regarded him with a look of amusement which befuddled him and he frowned in confusion which seemed to further amuse her.

Elizabeth's happiness lasted for two more days. Twice she met Mr. Darcy on her ramblings through the woods where she engaged him in light converse interspersed with arch opinions on books, art and the theatre. She took particular pleasure in arguing the merits of poetry. It was her contention that it would be easier and more worth while to study Greek then to try to translate poetry into a common language which could be understood at first reading. This was such a profane notion that Darcy stopped in his tracks and turned towards her ready to disabuse her of such blasphemous thoughts. She turned and faced him squarely, her color high, her eyes bright and gleaming, daring him to play the game. He had never argued with a devil's advocate who wore a dress and bonnet the color of sunbeams and he was totally bewitched. In later years he would look upon that very moment when he admitted to himself that he was lost and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her.

He would never know how he might have responded to her challenge for Richard chose that moment to come thrashing though the brush muttering not so mild oaths as he tried to disentangle his body from the vines that clutched at him. Elizabeth's disappointment at the interruption was keen but she valiantly tried to hide it as the three of them walked back to the parsonage.

When she entered the drawing room she was greeted by Mary who was clutching a letter and looking pale. "It's an express from Jane, Lizzie. Open it quickly and tell me if it concerns our parents."

Elizabeth obeyed and immediately quieted Mary's fears. "It's Lydia. She's run off with Lieutenant Wickham."


	12. WICKHAM

So this was how it will end Elizabeth thought brushing away bitter tears. Of all the scenarios she might have imagined, that Lydia would elope with George Wickham had never been contemplated. He was twice Lydia's age and the son of a steward. He had no money and Lydia was but fifteen, penniless and empty headed. Elizabeth didn't believe for a moment that Wickham had any intention of marrying Lydia. It had to be a seduction for his own amusement and nothing more.

"I must leave for Longbourn first thing in the morning and please, Mary, keep this dreadful news to yourself until I'm out of Kent."

"But I can't, Lizzie. I must tell Mr. Collins."

Elizabeth stood up angrily. "Please allow me some dignity, Mary. I will write a note to Anne which you will have delivered to her after I'm gone. Then you may tell Mr. Collins the truth. You know very well what his reaction will be. He'll scurry over to Rosing's Park to impart this news hoping to curry Lady Catherine's favor by sharing this gossip heedless of the fact that this ruination visits upon his own wife as well as your sisters and parents."

"But how will I explain your sudden need to leave here?"

Tell him that I'm anxious to see Charlotte. He'll believe that. Besides, he must be eager to see the last of me. I'm sure he blames me for his fall from grace. I was witness to his humiliation. He will never forgive me for that."

"Oh Lizzie, you are too hard on him."

Elizabeth stared at Mary in disbelief but the sound of the front door opening kept her from replying to this nonsense. "Don't fail me, Mary," she begged before escaping to her room. There, she reached beneath her bed and pulled out her portable desk and sat down to pen the last letter she would ever write to Anne DeBourgh. As she gathered her thoughts images of Darcy would intrude. She had last seen him standing so tall, his dark eyes regarding her with shared amusement at her audacious statements, ready to do battle with her. She remembered so well the excitement of being able to tease him and his reaction to her. She began to comprehend that he was exactly the man who in disposition and talents would most suit her. His understanding and temper would answer all her wishes. She felt how improbable it was that they would ever meet again on such terms of cordiality as had marked their several meetings in Kent. She feared that the loss of Darcy's esteem would cripple her forever.

Dear Anne,

Forgive me for taking leave of you by letter but I have not the strength to speak of the disgrace that has fallen upon our family and I am now on my way back to Longbourn. I'm sure that Mr. Collins will be delighted to give you all the details and as you read this letter is sure to be on his way to Rosing's Park to share his news.

I want to thank you and Georgianna for the friendship you offered me when I most needed understanding and support. I will never forget your generosity of spirit. These past weeks have been a joy and I will miss you all. My memories will always be filled with affection and though I may never see you again be assured that the Darcys and de Bourghs will forever remain close to my heart.

With deep regret, I bid you all a fond farewell,

Elizabeth Bennet.

Elizabeth's letter was delivered the following morning as the family sat down to breakfast.

Lady Catherine frowned at Anne as her daughter's obvious joy when first opening the letter from her friend turned to dismay. She watched her read, then read twice more the letter. "For heaven's sakes, Anne, what does Miss Bennet have to say that has so distressed you?"

Darcy looked up sharply and waited for Anne's response.

"She is on her way back to Longbourn. She speaks of a disgrace to her family."

"What kind of disgrace?"

"She doesn't say, but she says that Mr. Collins will be sure to give us all the details. Oh Mother, I fear it has something to do with her youngest sister."

True to Elizabeth's prediction Mr. Collins wasted no time before rushing to the manor to deliver his news. At his entrance into the breakfast room Darcy stood and walked to the window. When he turned and faced the room and the odious cleric, he was twisting his pinky ring, a sure sign of his disturbance of mind.

Lady Catherine did not offer her cleric coffee or even ask him to sit down. "I understand you have some news to share with us?"

His face flushed with excitement, "Oh, yes, your Ladyship," Mr. Collins replied. "The news I feel called upon to relate is of the bitterest kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove. No arguments shall be wanting on my part that can alleviate so severe a misfortune or that may comfort the Bennet family, under a circumstance that must be of all others most afflicting to a parent's mind. The death of their daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of this."

Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed in contempt. "Speak plainly, Mr. Collins, for I am anxious to hear what sin could be so egregious that a mother would prefer to see her child in the grave."

"Yes, yes, your Ladyship. It seems, much to my distress, that my youngest cousin has eloped from Brighton with a lowly soldier by the name of George Wickham." Into the stunned silence that followed this announcement, he continued blithely on, "I believe that this licentious behavior has proceeded from a faulty indulgence on the part of her parents though for their consolation I am inclined to think that her own disposition must be naturally bad to have committed such an enormity at such an early age. And as if this wasn't bad enough, my dear wife informs me that Miss Elizabeth has met with George Wickham on several occasions and disliked him from the very beginning. She tried to tell Mr. Bennet that he was not a man to be trusted. But she obviously didn't try hard enough so she should shoulder some of the blame for this catastrophe. This afternoon I will write the Bennets and advise them to throw off their unworthy child from their affection forever and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous offenses."

"You will do no such thing," Lady Catherine snapped. "By what convoluted reasoning did you come to blame Miss Elizabeth for what has happened? It seems to me that she showed a keenness of mind to warn her father that Mr. Wickham was trouble. Do you blame your wife for not seeing him for the man he is? And how about yourself? You spent time with the Bennet family. Why did you not warn them to curb Miss Lydia. It's all becoming clear to me now. It's all your fault, Mr. Collins! Indeed, the more I think of it the more inclined I am to believe you are responsible for the calamity."

The clergyman's knees buckled and he landed on his knees looking for the world as though he were kneeling in supplication. "Stand up," Lady Catherine sneered, "I will not have you praying in the breakfast room. You had better save that for church. And I also recommend that you practice spending at least fifteen minutes a day in rational thought." She waved him away dismissively, "you may go. And give my sincere condolences to your long-suffering wife."

The first to move was Georgianna who stood up and fled the room. Anne followed at a slower pace. Next went Richard, "excuse me, I have a couple of brief notes to get off by express." He shot a look at Darcy who nodded.

Lady Catherine saw the look exchanged by her nephews and dismissed the servants and waited until Darcy returned to the table. "Now relate to me, Nephew, the sins of George Wickham. I fear I had almost forgotten him during my worry over Anne's health."

Darcy spoke quietly of his childhood friend showing little emotion. "He is completely devoid of conscience, Aunt. He wreaks havoc no matter where he goes. He drinks and gambles to excess and takes advantage of every tradesman who dares trust him. He almost crippled the economy of Lambton by running up debts which he could not possibly repay. There are debts of honor which he repaid by provoking secret and illegal duels. He's killed men who were little more than boys. And there are his seductions. There was a thirteen year old who died giving birth. Her child also died. There is a fourteen old who has the mental capacity of a five year old. Her son was born healthy and lives with her parents. She thinks he is her little brother."

"You've said quite enough, Nephew. And what do you plan to do about it? Can you bring the law down on him?"

Darcy nodded, "if we can find him it's debtor's prison for him. I swear he'll never again see the light of day."

I suggest you leave Georgianna here. She will be good company for Anne and we will return to Town in about ten day's time. Is that agreeable?"

Darcy nodded. "That would be best. Richard and I will probably leave for Town at first light."

When he entered his sister's rooms a short time later Georgianna was still weeping quietly.

"Who do you weep for, Georgianna?"

"Not for George Wickham, if that's what your asking. He's no longer the young funny man who used to bring me boxes of chocolates. I despise him! No, Wills, I weep for Lizzie. I've grown so fond of her and to know that she returns home under these circumstances breaks my heart. I don't understand why her whole family must suffer this disgrace. It isn't fair."

"I know, dearest, but society sets certain rules which, believe it or not, are mostly formed for the weaker and gentler sex. Ladies must be protected from the George Wickhams of the world. It is why in our world ladies do not come out before the age of eighteen and if they are allowed to attend a ball before that age, they may only dance with a member of their family or a very close and trusted friend of the family. That Lydia Bennet entered society at such an early age was begging for trouble. She was far too young to know her own mind. I have no doubt that she believes herself to be in love and that Wickham will marry her. But she isn't, and he won't. The proper rules of conduct were never instilled in her. If she had given a thought to how her elopement without the sanction of her family would reflect upon her entire family, she would not have been so irresponsible."

"Will they stop loving her as Mr. Collins thinks they should?"

"It isn't that easy to stop loving, Georgie. Whatever you might do in the future you can always be assured that I will always love you and I'm quite sure her family feels the same way. I'm sure Lizzie...Miss Bennet has hurried home to offer comfort to her family. They must be worried sick over what may befall their youngest child."

"May I write Elizabeth? I told her I would when she returned to Hertfordshire. I would not want her to think I had abandoned her."

"Of course you may write her. And Georgie, you may assure her that we all feel nothing but pain at the misery she and her family must be enduring."

"Thank you, Wills, I'm sure she will appreciate hearing that."

"Richard and I will travel to Town in the morning. I can't promise anything, dearest, but Richard has connections and he can possibly locate the pair of them."

"What will happen then?"

"If they have eloped to Scotland there will be nothing to do. However, I doubt he has any plans to marry the girl and if that is so the best I can do is have him thrown into debtor's prison and send her back to her family."

"Wills, Lizzie has an aunt and uncle who live in Cheapside. They were the couple we saw at the theatre that night. By Lizzie's account, her uncle is a very astute business man and she describes them both as being very intelligent and clever. Perhaps if you find miss Lydia, you might think of sending her to them. Maybe they can help to avoid disgrace."

Darcy didn't have to think twice, "an excellent idea, Georgie. I don't suppose you know their name."

"It's Gardiner and they live on Gracechurch street."

For the first time since hearing that Elizabeth was on her way back to Hertfordshire Darcy allowed himself the luxury of smiling, "we have the start of a plan, Georgie. Now all we have to do is find them."

Two brief notes were waiting for Richard when he and Darcy arrived back in Town the following day. "They've started tracking. They'll keep us apprised."

"So we wait."

Richard nodded, "so we wait."

In his rooms Darcy stretched out on the bed wondering how Elizabeth was faring. When he first heard Wickham's name dropped by Mr. Collins his shock had been as close to physical pain as he had ever known. He hadn't seen Wickham for years. That he could suddenly surface to destroy the Bennet family was beyond the pale and he had been at a loss for words as that horrendous cleric spouted his loathsome ideas of Christian charity. All he could think of was the distress Elizabeth had to be suffering and how he wanted to comfort her though he was well aware that he had no right to. He was beginning to think that his life had slipped beyond his control. He could think of nothing but Elizabeth Bennet and his growing desire for her colored by his long simmering hatred of George Wickham.

When he awoke two hours later the skies had darkened and the rain had begun as it would continue for the next four days. Richard came and went ignoring the intolerable weather while Darcy stayed home, brooded and waited for word of Lydia Bennet. On the fourth day Darcy finally left the house assured by Richard that he would not leave the house.

Darcy spent time in the book shops and enjoyed a late lunch at his club hoping to hear any gossip concerning George Wickham but he was as successful as Richard had been. No one had heard of him in years. By early evening he returned home in despair. It was a hopeless task. Wickham and Miss Bennet had been traced as far as London and no further. A full week had passed since their defection from Brighton. The damage had been done. Not only was Lydia Bennet poor, she was no longer a virgin. She'd made herself a useless commodity in the marriage mart.

When he entered his house his butler informed him that Richard had earlier received a letter and had left the house immediately. What this information augured was anyone's guess but there could be no happy outcome. Lydia Bennet would return home in utter disgrace or she would marry Wickham and rue the day she ever laid eyes on him. Fifteen years old and her life was in ruins. Darcy delayed supper for an hour but still his cousin didn't return. After supper he spent an hour pacing in his library unable to concentrate on any book. By midnight he was exhausted and out of sorts. He was not a patient man and waiting for Richard had grown interminable.

He stood in the shadows across from the gambling hall. He was cold and wet for he had been standing in the rain for more than six hours. The unpaved road had turned into a viscous slime of mud and he felt his heavy boots sinking into the sludge. He opened the the bottle of cheap gin and took a sip grimacing at the taste wondering how anyone could drink such poison and survive. He watched three men stagger out of the hall. Still his prey did not appear. Another hour passed and the rain didn't let up but he was patient. He'd had worse assignments.

At last shortly before eleven o'clock he saw the man he'd been waiting for stumble out of the hall and he quickly left the shadows and hailed him. "As I live and breathe! Is that really you, George?"

Wickham eyed him blearily trying to focus on the stranger. When recognition penetrated his befuddled brain he managed a smile, "can you loan me a tenner? I've had a spot of bad luck."

"Of course, old friend." He pulled out the bottle of gin and handed it to Wickham, then threw his arm around him in a comradely fashion while steering him down the street.

Wickham took a long swig from the bottle. "I have a little slut waiting for me. She's yours if you want."

"How delightful and generous of you."

Wickhams's drunkenness and the increased intensity of the wind and rain made walking difficult until they turned the corner and gained some shelter in the shadow of another brothel. Here the light was dim and ideal for his purpose. He pushed Wickham forward and with a sharp blow kicked the back of his knees followed by a swift open-handed slam to his back. Wickham fell flat on his face and with no further thought the boot that had felled him now came down on the back of Wickham's head and pressed it hard into the mud. There was little resistance; he suspected that Wickham had been unconscious and never realized that his life had ended so ignominiously. He poured the rest of the gin on the body then dropped the bottle next to the body before he began to trudge forward away from where he'd connected to Wickham. The rain still hadn't let up by the time he reached his coach and gave instructions to his driver.

He headed back down the road towards the seedy boardinghouse. Upon entering his ears were assailed by the noise of the drunken revelers, his nostrils by the smell of ale, vomit and body odor. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he made his way up the narrow stairs to the second floor. He found the door he was looking for and rapped sharply and waited. It took but a moment before the door was flung wide and he got his first glimpse of Lydia Bennet. He'd half expected to see a terrified fifteen year old but that was not the case and he was filled with dismay as he regarded her. She was dressed in nothing more than a transparent robe which left nothing to the imagination. Her hair was down and uncombed and her lips and cheeks were rouged.

"Who are you," she cried. "Is Wickie with you?"

He pushed her back and stepped in shutting the door behind him. "Lieutenant Wickham is gone and won't return. I'm here to return you to your family."

"Oh no you won't! Wickie and I are to be married. Where is he?"

"Pack your valise. I have a carriage waiting."

"I told you I won't go with you and when Wickie returns I'll tell him how rude you've been and you'll be sorry."

She never saw the hand that shot out and slapped her so hard that she recoiled in shock and fell back onto the filthy unmade bed. He straddled her, gripping both wrists and pressed them down on either side of her face. He now had her full and undivided attention. "You're used goods, Miss Bennet, and Lieutenant Wickham no longer finds you attractive. I've been sent to see that you are safely delivered back to your family. If you're wise, you'll do as I say. If not, I've been given leave to offer you to the men downstairs at a penny a throw. He stood up and stared down at her with undisguised distaste and waited.

She stared back at him in horror, taking in the icy, dead eyes of a man who meant what he said. She managed to get to her feet and began to stuff her meager belongings into a valise. Her face was scarlet and she was now weeping loudly. "Shut up," he snapped, "and don't forget to put a dress on. You would not wish to appear on your uncle's doorstep looking like a whore, would you?"

She gasped and started to cry again until she raised her eyes to him and saw the cold aversion in his eyes. She lapsed into silent tears with an occasional sniffling.

When she was done he shoved her to the door. "Walk down the stairs and don't utter a word or it will go bad for you and that's a promise." She did what she was told and he sighed in relief when they were safely in the carriage heading for Cheapside.

When they arrived at the address in Gracechurch street she jumped down and flew to the door, crying and banging at the door. He waited, watching the candles being lit both down and upstairs. When the door was finally opened and she fell inside he rapped on the coach panel signaling his driver to move on. He needed a large drink and a good ten hours of sleep.

There were few people who were automatically admitted to Darcy's townhouse without an announcement and Charles Bingley was one of them. When the library door opened and Bingley walked in, Darcy was surprised and sorely disappointed at the late arrival of his good friend but masked it as best he could. "Charles! What on earth are you doing out on a night like this?"

"Dinner at the Hursts. Then on the way back home I saw the lights on and thought I'd stop in for a nightcap."

Darcy waved him towards the liquor cabinet, "help yourself." He eyed his old friend uneasily. That Charles would choose this particular night to drop in unexpectedly and after midnight was extraordinary.

Bingley dropped into his favorite chair, "so, what brings you back from Kent so early?"

"My aunt and her daughter, Anne, have decided to open their townhouse and Richard and I were bored with the talk of paint and wallpaper. How about yourself? I thought you'd be down in Hertfordshire by now."

Bingley grinned, "the first of June I will take possession of my first estate. Surely I made mention of the date in my letter."

"Perhaps that information was hidden under one your blots. How you managed to graduate from Cambridge with honors is truly a riddle. Your missives are undecipherable"

"Ah yes, but never boring."

The library door opened and Richard stepped in. He hesitated for a split second when he saw Bingley, then advanced upon him with his usual jovial grin, "have you two been partying all night? And to think I've been suffering the company of my brother Edmund and the shrew he married." He helped himself to a large drink then dropped into a a chair with a sigh. "So, Bingley, did you find the shire that starts with an 'H' or did you get distracted and end up in Northumberland?"

"Never mind that, Colonel. I want to know how you managed to grow a beard in the last month. It would take me two years to grow a beard that thick."

"Because I'm a manly studmuffin, Bingley, and you're still a child."

"What the hell is a studmuffin?"

"It's what my many female admirers call me. Surely you've seen how I look in my regimentals? God's gift to the fairer sex, old man."

Bingley laughed out loud and drained his drink. "I'll let that pass and say a prayer for your long suffering cousin." He stood up and stretched his narrow frame. I'm exhausted. Lunch tomorrow? I must tell you both about Hertfordshire and the angel I met there. He opened the door then turned back for a moment. "Her name is Jane Bennet and I think I'm in love."

When the door closed behind him Darcy and Richard exchanged an incredulous look. "What did he say?"

Darcy shook his head, "I think he said that he met an angel by the name of Jane Bennet. Is that possible?"

"Jane Bennet from Hertfordshire? My head is spinning.


	13. INTERIM

Darcy stood at the window watching Bingley's carriage pull away. "Who ever loved that loved not at first sight," he quoted shaking his head. I swear that man falls in love as often as I change shirts. I almost envy him."

"What's to envy? One day it will take and he'll marry and settle down, just like you will."

"You make it sound so simple, but Bingley answers to no one but himself...except perhaps his sister."

"Sometimes your stupidity astonishes me, Darcy. You are one of the richest men in the county, live on an estate that has no equal in beauty and you're not bad looking if being tall, dark and handsome is your cup of tea. You make decisions with no reference to another living soul. You can marry where you want, be it a lady of the Ton or a lively country girl. I would not stand in the shoes of the man or woman who chose to stand in your way once you make your choice.

Darcy turned, "and you, Richard? Isn't it time to stop playing soldier?"

"Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast."

"Shakespeare? You surprise me. But take care that you don't wake up one morning to a cold bed mourning the loss of your dancing days."

"What woman in her right mind would want me? I'm the youngest son and sleep in a tent most of the time."

"I can name one woman who might have you."

Richard grinned, "you speak of Caroline Bingley, I suppose. Ah what a woman! Can you imagine the two of us on our wedding night?"

"Mercifully, no."

The cousins continued to talk in a desultory manner but their hearts weren't in it. Each wished to talk about what had transpired that night; each loathe to open the subject. Finally Richard began to peel away the false beard he'd been wearing as a disguise. "Nasty things, these," he muttered, "but Wickham didn't recognize me though he pretended to. He actually asked me for a tenner."

"Where is he?"

"Perhaps it might be best if we never speak of Wickham again."

"Not good enough, Cousin. Where is he?"

"Where I left him. Face down in a half foot of mud."

"He's dead?" Darcy stared at Richard, "You killed him?"

Richard regarded Darcy with a sardonic smile. "It wasn't planned...I'm not sure what I planned to do with him. Force him to marry Miss Bennet or break several of his bones. A third option arose when he offered to share the slut with me. Those are his words, not mine." Richard stood and tossed the fake beard into the fire and refilled his glass. "I knew at that moment that he had no intention of marrying the girl...had no affection for her. Yet he had ruined her and brought misery to her family. Why? I have no idea. Probably just for the fun of it. He'd done it before and had gotten away with it. And he would do it again. There are no laws in this country that will protect young women from predators like Wickham. Are you disappointed in me Wills?"

Darcy regarded Richard with sadness, "I could never be disappointed in whatever you do, Richard. I suppose I'm just surprised and feeling a little stupid. If I'd been thinking more clearly I might have known it could come to this. Trouble is, I feared for your life, not his."

"Oh ye of little faith."

"I have complete faith in you. It was Wickham I couldn't trust. You should have allowed me to come with you. I could have watched your back."

"I had two very able men watching my back. You forget what I do for a living."

Darcy wasn't sure just what Richard did in the army and preferred not to know. "And what of Lydia Bennet"

"She is safe with her aunt and uncle in Gracechurch street. Now it's up to them to create a cover story as to why she suddenly appeared on their doorstep. If they're clever, they'll keep her long enough to make sure she isn't with child. If she isn't, then they can send her home."

The thought that the Bennet girl might be pregnant with Wickham's child made Darcy's blood run cold. "Did she go willingly?"

"She did not. She was half naked and rouged up like any other lady of the streets. Wickham was an exellent teacher or Miss Bennet was an avid student. Whatever, I had to terrorize her first. Of all the things I've done for my country and king, it was the worst thing I've ever done. She really is just an empty-headed child. And I said terrible things to her. And...and I hit her. I've never laid a hand on a woman in anger in my life. But she had no idea of the danger she was in. He'd left her there for two days while he went out drinking and gambling. With that beard, I must have looked like the devil incarnate. I have more than blood on my hands this night, cousin."

Darcy listened in silence as Richard vented. When it seemed that he could speak no more, Darcy spoke softly, "Go to bed Richard, you're exhausted. You need a good night's rest. We both do."

"Yes. Yes. But you should have seen the place he left her. It was next to a brothel and above a bar with the most disreputable customers I've ever seen. Her room was alive with roaches and it stank. When I think it could have been Georgie...I was glad that I'd killed him. He was pure evil and the world is better off without the Wickhams of this world."

Richard drained his glass. "There is only one good thing that came out of this night's work. George Wickham will never harm another child. I will sleep well. Good night, cousin."

Left alone Darcy continued to gaze into the fire, his mind going back through the years he had known George Wickham. There had been a time when they had been like brothers, studying and playing together, getting in mischief together. But there came a time when the mischief Wickham got into became more serious, more destructive and Darcy could find no way to stop it. His father had laughed it off as high spirits. If Darcy had indulged in half the pranks Wickham did he would have been severely reprimanded. By the time Wickham had reached his majority, mischief and pranks turned mean. He thought himself above the servants of Pemberley and the tradesmen in Lampton, a tiny village five miles from the estate. By the time he started at Cambridge he had become dissolute and Darcy could no longer abide his company. And now he was dead. And he had died badly, smothered in filth which was perhaps some kind of poetic justice.

As for Richard, he came across as a light-hearted soul who found humor in every situation, even in the serious business of war, but Darcy knew better. There was another side of Richard that few people ever saw. When in his cups and in Darcy's company Richard could be deadly serious. He had hardly turned a hair when describing the demise of George Wickham, however his feelings about Lydia Bennet were acute and searing. He blamed the rules of society. A woman had no chance of justice in England. A man could run roughshod over a woman and never suffer any punishment. She could never bring charges against him fearing the disgrace which would come down on her family. There was no jury of her peers and any suit she might bring would inevitably lose or what was more likely never brought to court. Women were no less than chattels of men, always at their mercy, subjected to unspeakable crimes and they had no recourse. Yet poor women continued to seek out husbands for protection and security. If not successful in their search for a suitable mate the educated could always play nursemaid to the children of their betters. If uneducated, they could come upon the town and eventually die of disease or at the hand of one of her customers.

Darcy felt exhaustion overwhelm him. As he mounted the stairs another long forgotten quote came to him. "There is no witness so terrible, no accuser so powerful as conscience which dwells within us." But he would not regret Wickham's death. He went to bed determined to think no more of George Wickham.

The morning brought a change in the weather. It had stopped raining at last. He had slept soundly and he rose to a bright golden day. When he greeted Richard in the breakfast room, his cousin was shaved and fully dressed and was wolfing down a substantial meal and seemed to be in an excellent humor. It was as if the previous night had not happened. It brought a sense of relief knowing that Richard would be able to place Wickham in the past where he belonged. Richard's good humor lasted until a servant delivered a letter from his father. Richard read it and frowned. "I've been summoned to our townhouse for an emergency meeting."

"What kind of emergency?"

Richard shrugged, "father doesn't say. " He held the letter up to the light. "But I can see two holes in the paper. "I'd say he is annoyed and frustrated bordering on fury. He wants me to talk some sense into my brother, which is generally a hopeless task. I fear the worst."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No. Stay here and catch up on business. I'll see you at the club. Don't hold lunch for me. I'll make it when I can."

Bingley was anxiously awaiting Darcy's arrival at the club. He had so much to impart to his friend he found it hard to sit still. When he finally spotted Darcy's entrance he stood up and almost ran to him. "You're late," he accused, "and where is that bearded cousin of yours?"

"Happy to see you too," Darcy drawled. "Richard will be along soon. He had some family business to take care of. And he is no longer a bearded studmuffin. He had it shaved off this morning." Once they were seated at Darcy's favorite table he ordered a bottle of wine then sat back and eyed his old friend. "So, tell me about Hertfordshire before you explode."

Bingley grinned broadly, "it's perfect," he pronounced, "and the populous very friendly."

"Never mind the populous. Tell me about the estate."

"Netherfield is the perfect starter estate and I was lucky to be able to lease it. There are several surrounding estates that are quite prosperous and I found the owners quite delightful."

"I'm sure. And what is your expected income?"

"Of what?"

Darcy sighed, "of the estate you've leased."

"Oh, a couple of hundred, I think."

Darcy hid his exasperation behind a large swallow of wine. Bingley was in love so would make little sense for the foreseeable future. "So if you can remember, what's the name of the closest village?"

"Meryton. Absolutely charming."

"I have no doubt. So, what kind of estates surround Netherfield?"

"Netherfield?"

"Charles!"

Bingley grinned, "alright, I'll stop teasing. Last year the estate brought in thirty five hundred and that, with little management...the owners have spent the last year in the Americas. I feel sure that with your help I can squeeze out another thousand. "The closest estates are Lucas Lodge and Longbourn. Longbourn is the home of Miss Jane Bennet the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."

"So you've said. What is she like?"

"Blond, with a soft, gentle voice. An absolute angel."

Darcy found it hard to believe that Jane Bennet could be the sister of Elizabeth who could not be described as an angel. More of the devil in her. Perhaps a distant cousin.

"And her family?"

Bingley hesitated choosing his words. Darcy had impressed upon him the need to marry well. If by remote chance he and Jane Bennet were meant to be, the marriage could never be considered a good match. He knew his sister Caroline would go berserk. "The estate is entailed to a distant cousin who is married to one of Miss Bennet's sisters. There is no money, if that's what you're asking. And I don't care about that, Darcy," he add defensively, "I have enough to support us in a very good style. She would not want for anything."

"I was asking no such thing. You're a full grown man able to make your own choices without interference by well-meaning friends. I'm more interested about the family. The parents and siblings, if any."

"Oh. Sorry. But do you really mean that? You're not teasing me?"

"I do mean it. Lately I've begun to examine my own life rules and I find that they are not as important as I was led to believe all my life. I just want you to be happy, Charles. All I ask is you take it slowly. Now about her family."

"Well, there are two sisters at home, a sister who is married to a cleric and another sister who was visiting her married sister."

Now there was no doubt that Bingley's angel was the sister of Elizabeth Bennet as well as the sister of the disgraced Miss Lydia Bennet. Bingley would have to be told and he didn't look forward to it. He knew Bingley would take it in stride, but Caroline was another thing entirely.

Darcy looked beyond Bingley and saw Richard enter the dining room.

It took Richard a full five minutes to make his way across the dining room as he stopped at several tables to chat with friends. Darcy watched him trying to ascertain his mood and was relieved to see that Richard appeared to be in his usual light-hearted mood though that could be misleading. His cousin never showed his true feelings in public. When he finally reached the table he dropped into a chair with his usual careless manner. "I've had a rough morning, so be kind to me." He filled a glass with the excellent wine Darcy had ordered. "Scandal is rearing it's ugly head and Matlock house is in an uproar. Woe is me!"

Bingley chuckled, but stood up immediately, "Perhaps I should leave."

Richard waved him down, "I rely on your usual discretion, Bingley. Besides, if my sister-in-law carries out her threat, all of England will soon know of it."

"Trouble with the newly-weds?" Darcy asked.

Richard nodded, "Juliet swears she will go to court and sue for a bill of divorcement."

"Good grief! On what grounds?"

"Edmund, my sanctimonious prig of a brother has apparently taken a mistress, and his sourpuss of a bride objects, though why, I can't imagine. There has never been any discernible love between them"

"Edmund has taken a mistress? I don't believe it."

"Neither did I, but Edmund says it is so."

"He actually told you that he has taken a mistress?"

Richard rolled his eyes, "yes, cousin, he actually told me! And father is threatening to disinherit him, disown him, and even went so far as to warn him that a vital part of his anatomy would be removed if he didn't come to his senses."

"And Aunt Reggie? How is she taking it?"

"There's never been a divorce in our family; it's unthinkable. The Fitzwilliams don't air their problems in public." He glanced at Bingley, "there are easier ways of disposing of an unwanted spouse. Burrs under a blanket...drives a horse wild. If the burr is placed properly it can send a rider halfway to hell. Then of course, there's the errant arrow..."

Darcy suppressed a smile seeing the look of horror on Bingley's face. "Rumors. Only rumors. Of course, there was the case of the toadstool porridge one of our ancestors fed her abusive husband but they never could prove that it was anything but an accident. And as far as the death of her second husband, it was just bad luck when the pike fell off the wall and decapitated the poor soul"

"Enough, you two!" Bingley cried. "I don't believe a word of this nonsense."

Darcy and Richard shared a good-natured laugh with Bingley before Richard grew serious. "I spoke with my brother who was quite drunk and had locked himself away in his quarters. He refused to allow father into his rooms which was why I was summoned. Edmund is in a bad way and very unhappy. I refrained from reminding him how I had warned him of the dire consequences inherent in entering a loveless marriage, feeling he had already learned that bitter lesson. I tried to get him to open up and between the tears and slurred speech, finally succeeded. She had never wanted to marry him. Her father had forced it on her. She didn't want to have a child fearing she would suffer the same fate as her eldest sister who had died giving birth. They'd never had marital relations."

"Is that possible?" Bingley asked.

"Some men," Darcy replied with distaste, "would not stand for it and would take what they want but Edmund is a gentler soul and isn't cut from that same cloth."

"Surely he can get an annulment"

"I'll answer that," Richard said. "Of course he can get an annulment but the disgrace of admitting in open court that his wife refused him would be too much for Edmund's pride. So he opted to take a mistress. Now, to his horror, Juliet turns around and wants to sue him for a divorce citing his adultery. Her father is threatening to send her to a nunnery and cut off her inheritance. The whole mess is worthy of of one of Shakespeare's comedies."

"It sounds like they're both acting like spoiled brats," Darcy allowed. "Nothing good can come of this if they don't sit down and talk to each other."

"Precisely what I told him. Hopefully if he ever sobers up, he'll reach the same conclusion."

Once they had exhausted the subject of marital woes Richard turned his attention to Bingley, "so tell me about your latest conquest, poor girl."

Bingley's countenance brightened immediately. "Jane Bennet is an angel."

"And are there any more angels at home?"

"Just two, but both are silly geese and too young for a studmuffin like yourself."

Darcy spoke up, "apparently there are two more angels...one married to a cleric and another visiting her."

Richard sighed heavily, "I see." He drained half a glass of wine. "Perfect!"

"But you'll meet them all when you visit me at Netherfield."

"I just can't wait."

Darcy decided to put an end to Richard's sarcasm before Bingley awoke to it and took offense. "So, Bingley, what did Caroline have to say when you sprung this on her?"

"She offered to be my hostess. I agreed."

"Is that all? I thought she'd have a few chosen words to call you."

"I think that was her immediate thought, but after a moment's consideration, she thought it a splendid idea."

Richard eyed Bingley, "it took all of a moment?" Richard glanced at Darcy. "Now what do you suppose went through her mind in a moment? Did you perhaps tell her that Darcy would be enjoying a long stay with you?"

Bingley blushed to his roots, "I may have mentioned that."

"It sounds," Richard allowed, "that this should make for a lively visit. I wouldn't miss it for the world. As a matter of fact, I have a brilliant idea. Our Aunt Catherine and her daughter Anne will be arriving from Kent in about a week's time. They'll be staying at Matlock house but with the trouble with my brother brewing, they will probably enjoy a trip to Hertfordshire. And I'm sure Georgiana would love to see your new home. What say you, Bingley? Do you think you can manage a houseful of guests?"

Bingley grew excited, "of course. It will be wonderful to play host in my first estate."

Richard cocked a brow in Darcy's direction. "What say you, cousin? Are you up to it."

Darcy shook his head at Richard's audacity but couldn't suppress a smile, "having Lady Catherine and Caroline Bingley living in one house will certainly make the time spent in Hertfordshire a memorable occasion if any of us survive."

After a quick lunch Richard returned to Matlock house leaving Darcy and Bingley to finish their meal at a slower pace. When they finally pushed their plates away and ordered brandies, Darcy sat in silence softly drumming his fingers on the table glancing around at the almost empty clubroom. Before Bingley returned to Hertfordshire it was imperative that he be informed about the Bennet family and what had befallen them since Bingley's visit. It would be an unkind friend not to warn him that there was trouble brewing especially when Caroline got wind of it. She was desperate to connect the Bingley family with a moneyed or titled family. She had made her wishes known as long as he had known her. It would be bad enough if Charles attached himself to a country nobody but if there was a scandal connected to the family... but where to begin?

While Darcy mulled over what he wanted to say to Bingley, Bingley watched Darcy with interest and ordered two more brandies. He'd known Darcy for more than seven years and was sure he knew his every mood. A slight upset called for the twisting of his pinky ring, exasperation brought destruction to his perfect coiffure as he ran outraged fingers through his hair and a dark glare at Richard meant "you've delighted us long enough, now behave.". He'd never seen his friend angry and hoped he never would for his use of irony to show his displeasure was awesome enough. The rest of his moods were hidden by staring out a window or examining a nondescript knick-knack as though it were surely an undiscovered masterpiece. Finger drumming was new and to Bingley's mind indicated indecision which if it were so, would be a novelty for Darcy took great pride in knowing what he wanted and how to get it. He waited patiently until Darcy stopped that infernal drumming and focused his attention on Bingley.

"Bingley...Charles, It would save me a lot of trouble if you told me just what your feeling towards Miss Bennet are. I don't mean to be invasive but it's rather important that I know just what your feeling are towards this young lady."

Of all the subjects Darcy might approach, Miss Jane Bennet was the furthest from his mind. But his use of Bingley first name made it seem important though he could not imagine why. But he trusted his friend completely. "I liked her very much, Darcy, but I've only had the pleasure of four dances with her and her mother managed to place us together at two dinners at Longbourn. Other than that, I spoke with her on numerous occasions at the various parties I was invited to. She's beautiful to be sure, but it's her gentle spirit that I find so attractive. She only had good to say about her neighbors though I admit some of them are a boring lot though very friendly and welcoming to me. I don't know what more I can tell you, Darce. It's probably just an infatuation right now but it could very well turn into something more. I confess she is ever on my mind and I can't wait to see her again. I've leased Netherfield for six months. That should give us plenty of time to decide if we can be happy together. If she's the one I've been waiting for, then I'll marry her if she'll have me. Does that answer your question?"

"What of Caroline? There will be serious consequences if she is unhappy with your choice."

"Caroline can't live my life for me. I've heard enough about Edmund's misery to know that my life's partner must be my choice, and mine alone. Now it's your turn. What's this all about?"

Darcy sighed, "It's rather a long story but I'll make it as brief as I can. Once upon a time two men and a young lady rode down to Kent to spend what they considered to be cruel and unusual punishment...a visit to our Aunt Catherine. There we met a young lady so singular that all who came into her light were instantly entranced, especially my sister Georgiana and my cousin Anne. Are you bored yet?"

"Not at all. You say you met a woman who entranced you? The great Mr. Darcy? I'm working on the image."

"A slip of the tongue. Everyone but me was entranced. May I go on?"

"She wasn't a blond goddess, was she?"

"She was not. And by no stretch of the imagination could she be described as gentle in spirit. But that's not the point. My aunt has a cleric by the name of Mr. Collins who is the stupidest man in the world. Recently he married a young cousin whose family estate is entailed to her new husband...the only reason I can imagine marrying this buffoon of a clergyman. This estate is in Hertfordshire." Darcy stopped for a sip of brandy and noticed that Bingley was no longer smiling.

"Miss Elizabeth...the entrancing lady under discussion...also has an elder sister by the name of Jane, and two younger sisters."

"The misses Kitty and Lydia."

"Yes, Bingley. The misses Kitty and Lydia."

"What have they done?"

"It's Miss Lydia. She's eloped with George Wickham."

Bingley rocked back in his chair. "Oh my G-d! This is all my fault! I saw him there at some parties. I should have said something...warned them of what kind of man they were inviting into their homes."

"Settle down, Charles. You could not possibly have guessed such a thing could happen."

Have they found her? Are they married?"

"I know no more than I've told you, Bingley," Darcy lied. The morning before Richard and I returned to town the cleric scurried over and with great gusto related what I have just told you. He hopes that the family will throw away their youngest daughter and I suspect that he would be overjoyed if the entire family were shunned. I've told you this story so you're not blind-sided when you return to Hertfordshire. The entire Bennet family must be suffering the worst kind of misery and your Jane in the deepest grief. You can't keep gossip like this from spreading. I dare say your sister will hear of it within moments of her arrival at Netherfield. It will curtail your courtship severely."

"Someone should have killed that snake years ago." Darcy's eyes widened hearing such a statement from Bingley but chose not to reply. "Darcy, I don't believe that the sins of a sister should be visited upon the entire family. Do you?"

"If you had asked me that question a month ago I probably would have given you a lecture on the principles that govern our lives. But today I am inclined to put the blame on poor parentship. The remaining sisters are blameless, but that won't stop Caroline from refusing to invite them into your home or grace her presence in theirs. I'm not concerned with the rest of the inhabitants. As we go, they are sure to follow lest they incur our displeasure. I have found that the wealthier a man is, the more intelligence and discernment the common man attributes to him. Pure nonsense of course. I number among my acquaintances several who bray when spoken to."

"Then you'll still come to Netherfield with me? I mean...it will be difficult for your sister to meet one of the Bennet family under the circumstances. I would not have your family embarrassed, Darcy. If you want to change your mind about coming, I will understand."

Darcy was appalled. He stood up and stared down at his friend. "Bingley, It's been too long since we sat down with our brandies and talked the night away. What say we spend the evening together. Stay the night if you wish. And just so we're clear, if I forbade Georgiana from going to Hertfordshire I dare say she and my cousin Anne would disown me and go alone."


	14. AFTER WICKHAM

Elizabeth's ride back to Hertfordshire would be remembered as the darkest day of her life. To Elizabeth's mind what Lydia had done was an act of treachery so egregious she knew that time would never heal the intensity of heartbreak she felt as the carriage took her away from Kent and slowly drew her closer to Longbourn. She found her emotions fluctuating between raw rage and the deepest sorrow. As for leaving Kent, rational thought told her that her budding relationship with Darcy could not possibly have had a storybook ending but her heart had betrayed her. She had allowed a faint flicker of hope and now all hope had gone, extinguished by the perfidy of her youngest sister. She would never forgive Lydia and for own sanity, she had to forget Fitzwilliam Darcy.

As the coach neared the small estate her thoughts turned to the distant past when her return to her childhood home invariably brought her a deep feeling of warmth, whimsically believing that the house welcomed her and offered protection from all that could harm her. Sadly those days were far behind her in a time that would never come again. Today, as the carriage drove though the gates of Longbourn she fought back tears seeing the old house as a prison from which she might never escape.

Elizabeth was greeted warmly by Jane who briefed her in the entrance hall. Despite having left Brighton five days earlier the family have not received a word from Lydia and though the news of her elopement was nearly four days old the house was still in an uproar. Their father had locked himself in the library with strict orders not to be disturbed. How like him Elizabeth thought bitterly. She didn't attempt to seek entrance to his private domain nor did she spare a look at his closed door not sure she could contain her disgust with him.

When Elizabeth reached her mother's room she found her parent recumbent on her chaise lounge with a table on either side of her laden with all the essentials that accompany dissatisfaction. There was a pot of tea, a glass of lemonade, several plates of various sweets and the requisite bottles of smelling salts. Mrs. Bennet was inconsolable, dramatic and loud in her grief and frustration. She blamed Colonel Forster and his wife for not taking better care of Lydia. She blamed Kitty whom she suspected knew of Lydia's plan yet had said nothing. She blamed Mr. Bennet for not being stricter with their youngest daughter. And she blamed that blackguard Wickham for using her daughter so ill. No word of Lydia's immoral actions escaped her lips, nor was there any reference to her own culpability in the fall from grace of her youngest daughter. Kitty whined constantly contending that she could not see what was so wrong with what Lydia had done and Jane patiently tried to sooth her mother's nerves assuring her that all would be well.

Elizabeth eyed her mother and Kitty with distaste but said little for the better part of ten minutes before she left the room in disgust and opened the door to her own room slamming it shut behind her. When Jane followed desperately trying to offer comfort to her grieving sister, Elizabeth would not have it. "How did we come to this?" she cried. "We live in a house of fools! Lydia has destroyed us all."

"Oh Lizzie, please don't say that. Surely Lydia is married by now. I expect the happy couple to arrive here at any moment."

Elizabeth stared at her sister in disbelief, "then you're a fool, Jane." She softened her words by taking her sister's hand. "I wish I had your goodness, sweet Jane, but I don't. Wickham will never marry Lydia. Why should he? Think about it, Jane. What does she have to recommend herself beyond her youth? She isn't beautiful and she's stupid and willful. She has no dowry and no title. What can he possibly see in her? How will they live on his small salary? You know how she loves to spend money. It's a complete disaster." Jane bit her lip and looked away, a sure sign that something was preying on her mind. Elizabeth groaned, "what is it, Jane? Is there more to tell?"

"Oh Lizzie. There are rumors that Lieutenant Wickham left town owing heavy debts to the tradesmen in Meryton."

"Oh dear heaven, that just proves my point. No good can come of this. I wish he was dead!"

Jane recoiled in horror. "Lizzie! You can't mean that."

Elizabeth stared at her sister, "and why shouldn't I think that? What right did he have to come and destroy our peaceful existence? He's cheated honest hard-working men and he's deflowered our youngest sister. Think, Jane! What sort of man must he be to steal away a young girl half his age with not a word to her family?"

Jane grew visibly pale, "please, Lizzie, don't say that."

"Jane, what do you suppose they've been doing for the past five days?" When Jane lowered her head and didn't reply, Elizabeth took pity on her. It was just at these times that she missed Charlotte Lucas who was able to speak without embarrassment on any subject. "Is Charlotte home yet?"

Jane wiped away her tears, "not that I know of, but we haven't seen any of the Lucas family. Not even Maria."

"Have any of our neighbors called on us?"

"Only our Aunt Phillips."

So the shunning had begun.

That evening Mr. Bennet graced the dinner table with his usual philosophic appearance and said as little as was his habit of saying. Elizabeth greeted her father quietly and he allowed how good it was to see her again. No further words were exchanged between father and daughter. Mercifully Mrs. Bennet remained in her rooms so their meal was consumed in relative quiet. After dessert Elizabeth retired to her room and readied herself for bed. It had been an exhausting day.

When Jane rapped on her door Elizabeth was inclined to ignore it wanting only to sleep away her sorrow but she could not be that cruel and bade her sister to enter.

"I won't stay long, Lizzie, but with all our troubles, I forgot to ask after our sister Mary."

"Mary is quite well and seems to be happy in her situation. As you know, she is with child and seems to be happy to be so. There is not much more to say about my sojourn in Kent. And what of you, Jane? How do you fare? You look so tired."

"I am well, Lizzie and Aunt Phillips stayed with us for two days which was a great relief to us all."

"I suppose the entire neighborhood knows of our troubles."

"We have not been to town since we received the letter from Colonel Forster, and aside from Aunt Phillips, no one has visited us. Perhaps all this will be forgotten when the new tenant moves into Netherfield. It will give people something else to talk about."

"So Netherfield is still to be let?"

"I've not heard otherwise," Jane replied, unable to restrain the slight blush that rose to her cheeks.

"Jane," Elizabeth teased, "are you in love?"

"Of course not, Lizzie. But I will confess that I like Mr. Bingley very well and look forward to having new neighbors."

Elizabeth knew very well that the heart can't stop and continue to beat but as she stood and walked to the window she felt dizzy hearing that name in this house. "Mr. Bingley, you say?"

"Yes. He plans to move in during the first week of June. He's bringing his married sister and her husband as well as several friends. He told me that this will be his first estate and he has a very close friend who owns a large estate in Derbyshire who will be accompanying him to teach him the fundamentals of running an estate. He's so excited about it that you can't help but smile when he talks about it. It will be so nice to meet new people, don't you think. Lizzie?"

Elizabeth turned and stared at her sister trying not to look too stricken. She knew that she should warn her sister that if by some miracle Lydia did marry Wickham, Mr. Bingley would soon enough know the true facts of such a patched up affair. His friend would tell him of it. Once Mr. Bingley knew of the disgrace that Lydia had brought upon the Bennet family it was unlikely that he would show Jane any more preference. More things had been spoiled by Lydia's depraved indifference than her family's good name and she felt her heart break for Jane and though she did not want to admit it, for herself as well.

"Oh, Lizzie, you look so tired and here I am chatting away when you are so in need of sleep."

Lizzie clasped her beloved sister holding her tight offering a silent prayer that no harm would come to her. "I'll be fine after a good night's sleep."

When Jane returned to her own room Elizabeth blew the candle out and stood for several minutes staring out in the direction of Netherfield thinking of Darcy. She had convinced herself that she would never see him again and now to discover that within three weeks he would be so near and yet so far away. A house of fools, indeed. And she was the biggest fool. She climbed under the covers and clasped the pillow to her face and wept bitter tears.

Three days later as she stood at her bedroom window she saw Charlotte Lucas walking slowly through the gates of Longbourn and she wasted no time but flew down the stairs and through the door not stopping until she held her dearest friend in her arms. Their reunion was joyous and tearful and for the first time in days Elizabeth found herself laughing. Charlotte's gentle smile had a way of lightening Elizabeth's spirit and she allowed herself to revert back to the days of her childhood when she would speak little but would listen hard, absorbing her friend's good judgment. Charlotte's basic philosophy was simple enough. If there was nothing you could do about a particular situation, it was a waste of energy to worry about it.

Elizabeth interrupted Charlotte only once, "I will never forgive Lydia for what's she's done, Charlotte. Nor can I forgive my parents for what has happened. Father stays locked in his rooms while mother is ensconced in her rooms growing fat. Naturally, Kitty whines while Jane looks serene. They leave me in utter despair"

"Lydia will surface eventually, Lizzie, and then you can worry all you want, but at the moment why fight the wind? Your family needs you now. You're the sensible one, Lizzie, and think how your father must feel? He's a man of few words but he does love his family or he would have left you years ago. You're his favorite and he knows you're disappointed in him. I think you must show him some charity. Then of course, there's your mother. Lydia's her youngest and her favorite...I expect Lydia reminds her of her own youth. She may blame everyone else for what has transpired but I'm sure that deep down inside she feels responsible. And don't forget Jane and Kitty. Consider what must be going through their minds. They must be worried about their own futures and fear how Lydia's actions will tar their own reputations."

"I don't believe Jane has given a thought as to how this will impact her own life. She speaks blithely about the new tenants at Netherfield Park and how wonderful it will be to have new neighbors...in particular, the handsome new master. And as for Kitty, she doesn't think what Lydia has done is so bad."

"Ah, Kitty. She follows wherever Lydia leads. But once she sees what breaking the rules of propriety can do to a woman she will change her tune. Whether Lydia marries her redcoat or not, I see no happiness in her future. Mother tells me that Lieutenant Wickham left the area owing the tradespeople large sums of money. If she does marry Wickham, she certainly can't return to Meryton, at least not with her husband unless he suddenly comes into a large sum of money. And if she returns to Hertfordshire without a husband, it will never be the same again. Her actions will no longer be viewed as youthful exuberance but as wild. I fear that Lydia will no longer be able to boast that she danced every dance at an assembly. No reputable man will wish to dance with her or otherwise seek her company in public."

"And that will hold for the rest of us!"

"Not necessarily. This isn't Town, after all. We live in a confined society relying on each other to ease the monotony of our lives." Charlotte allowed a wry smile, "and your mother sets an excellent table. There may be a few holdouts at first, but they will come around and life will go on."

"Oh Charlotte, how can you be so sure?"

"I can't be sure, Lizzy, but I can tell you that my sister, Maria, is desperate to visit with Kitty and offer her a shoulder to cry on but mother has been reluctant to allow the visit simply because she doesn't wish to appear to be gloating over the situation. And the Longs feel the same way. They've been biding their time so that when they visit they can offer congratulations and not consolation. Don't forget, Lizzie, that my mother has a daughter the same age as Lydia and Mrs. Long's twins are the same age as Kitty. Your sisters weren't the only young girls who needed no encouragement to chase uniforms. From the letters I received from Maria, I gathered that the entire village had lost their common sense when it came to entertaining the militia. Parties every night, shopkeepers extending credit to complete strangers...I fear, Lizzie, that only time will tell if any other young women didn't succumb to the charms of a uniform."

The two women had reached their favorite tree and sat down sharing a smile at all the memories of the past years. Charlotte opened her reticule and brought fourth two wrapped slices of gingerbread and handed one to Elizabeth. "Our cook sends her best to you, Lizzie," she said with a knowing smile.

Elizabeth visibly relaxed in the company of Charlotte Lucas whose serene countenance and plain old-fashioned sense had worked it's magic. "You make it all sound so easy, Charlotte."

"I hope not too easy, Lizzie. There is no doubt that your family is forever changed. You will eventually forgive Lydia but you will never forget what she has done. Deep inside you can never trust her again. As for your father, you'll eventually forgive him too, but you will no longer see him through the eyes of a child but see him as mortal and weak like the rest of us. Kitty will see the results of what Lydia has done to herself and she too will be changed. Even you mother can't come out of this experience unscathed. As for Jane...well, perhaps you should tell me about the new master of Netherfield."

The following day Charlotte, Maria and their mother Lady Lucas called at Longbourn. Maria forewent the pleasure of visiting Mrs. Bennet instead opting for a long walk and gossip with Kitty while Charlotte and her mother paid the ultimate sacrifice to friendship. They sat and listened to Mrs. Bennet's lamentations for the requisite half-hour, uttering murmurs of understanding and consolation, never needing words for Mrs. Bennet hardly took a breath. Besides, what could they say?

The next day Mrs. Long and Mrs. Arbuthnot, a young woman lately arrived in Meryton, called upon Mrs. Bennet with many apologies for not visiting sooner. Mrs. Bennet deemed their apologies to be sincere for she was in no position to hold a grudge and she loved nothing better than to have an audience who would listen to her lamentations without interruption.

In the next two days more neighbors began to make calls just as Charlotte had predicted. Her mother's nerves began to settle into a state of hysterics considered mild by her usual standards and Elizabeth began the process of healing the breach with her father. As angry as she had been, she missed his company and had to admit that despite his foibles, she still loved him. His sadness and admission that he had failed his family nearly broke her heart.

"You must not be so severe on yourself, Father, we are all to blame. Now that I've gotten over the shock of what's she's done, I realize that I should have made more of an effort to curb her instead of taking the easy way out and turning a blind eye to her bad conduct. I saw clearly the direction she was taking and did nothing about it."

"No Lizzie, let me for once in my life feel how much I am to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass soon enough."

The sharp rap on the door startled both of them. When Mrs. Hill entered their eyes fastened on the letter she held in her hands. Mr. Bennet took the letter in a nonchalant fashion which fooled neither their faithful servant or his daughter. Elizabeth felt her breath quicken as she watched her father open the letter and scan the contents. "It's from your uncle Gardiner. Apparently your sister showed up on his doorstep late last night. He assures us that she is safe, that no obvious harm has come to her. He begs me to come to Town immediately to discuss the story they must fabricate to account for her failed elopement for she is unmarried."

A week before Bingley was due to take residency of Netherfield it was not surprising that there was still no mention of anything in the Times relating to the discovery of a body in the slums of London. The high unemployment had caused organized crime to rear it's ugly head in the Capital thus murders were an everyday occurrence and little noticed. Indeed, it would have been remarkable if the death of a drunken soldier found behind a brothel had caused a stir with the authorities. Darcy decided it was time to put George Wickham firmly in the past and concentrate on the future. What his future was or where it lay, Darcy had not yet resolved. That Elizabeth Bennet was ever on his mind could not be disputed...not even to himself. The thought of her closed his eyes at night and delayed opening his eyes in the morning preferring to hold his pillow and imagine her in his arms. He was being foolish and fanciful. He suspected he was acting more like Bingley with his romantic fantasies The thought gave him little pleasure.

Lady Catherine, Anne and Georgiana had arrived safely at the Matlock house and were spending their days depleting the fashionable shops of Town of the finest furniture that money could buy. They were also disbursing their wealth at the fine dress shops and boutiques available to high-born women and it was proving to be an exhaustive entertainment. When Bingley issued his invitation to be his guests at Netherfield the ladies were perfectly amenable to forgo further shopping pleasure by visiting Hertfordshire while their townhouse was being painted and papered. They had been apprised by Darcy that Miss Elizabeth resided not three miles from Netherfield which gave Anne and Georgie great delight; Lady Catherine was noncommittal but the vile smells of London in the summer were making a trip to the country seem enticing and she had to confess she had grown rather fond of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and wondered how she had fared.

As for Richard, Darcy had seen little of him; he'd been spending the better part of three days traveling between their family home and his brother's townhouse on the other side of town. He'd talked himself blue in the face appealing to whatever common sense they had and pleading with them to sit down and talk together. Finally there had been a breakthrough of sorts. "Darcy you're not going to believe this! The damned fool finally sobered up and admitted that he had been lying about taking a mistress."

Darcy stared at his cousin in disbelief, "but why? What possible reason could he have to tell his wife such a tale? He must have known it would break her heart to hear him say such a thing?"

"He wanted to hurt her. But that's not the worst of it. He was also lying about not having conjugal relations with her. For the first two months he was perfectly satisfied and thought that their marriage had a chance of happiness. Then she started locking him out of her rooms."

"Did she say why?"

"According to Edmund, he wasn't meeting her needs."

"Er...what needs?"

Richard shrugged, "when he asked what needs, she would only say that he wouldn't understand. And he'd lose his temper and ask her how he could understand if she didn't tell him and she would start crying and tell him he should know without being told. She'd go on and on about her needs, that he didn't understand her, and that he treated her like a child and she wasn't a child."

"Good grief."

"Naturally, he had absolutely no idea of what she was going on about. He treated her with the utmost respect and was quite gentle with her. He finally decided it wasn't the marriage bed that was making her so unhappy. It was her damnable needs, whatever they were. And that's when he slammed out of the house and went to back to Matlock House and got drunk for three days."

"And what is her side of the story?"

"Apparently he ignores her at breakfast."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Darcy couldn't help laughing out loud, " you're joking."

"Well, I'll admit it was difficult to understand what she was saying...I didn't think it was possible for a women to weep for three hours straight...but I believe that's what she said. Apparently, he buries his face in the morning paper and completely ignores her. And when he comes home from his club she wants to know who he met there and what they spoke of. His reply is that she doesn't know him or them and what they spoke of was of no importance. The final straw was when he forgot it was her birthday. This caused her to ignore him at dinner, then lock herself in her rooms. I think what we have here is a failure to communicate."

"Edmund has always been stiff-necked but I've never seen him drunk and by your account, Juliet is a cold fish...so why all the tears? Are we missing something here? Could they really be fond of each other? It might account for the way they're acting."

"The thought has crossed my mind. I tried to get her to come back with me to Matlock House and talk with Edmund but she refused, saying his family was all against her. I tried to get Edmund to come back with me to his townhouse but he refused. Since half the servants have known Juliet all her life, he thinks they'll all be against him. I've known two-year olds who made more sense than the two of them."

"Why not send them to Pemberley? It's neutral ground. They'd have the place all to themselves without any outside influence."

Richard stood and poured two liberal glasses of brandy. "What a brilliant idea, cousin," he said, handing a glass to Darcy. "They'll be on their way to Pemberley first thing in the morning."

Darcy regarded Richard with amusement. "I take it they're packing as we speak?"

"Indeed they are. And they are most grateful for your kind generosity."

Darcy wasn't sure what to expect when he stepped into the club's dining room and spied Bingley sitting at their favorite table. He'd received one of Bingley's scribbled notes which to Darcy's surprise was so legible he'd been able to decode it by the time he finished his first cup of coffee. Across from his friend sat another young man who Darcy didn't recognize. He assumed that this unknown man was the surprise that Bingley promised him when he demanded that Darcy join him for lunch. When Bingley saw his friend approaching he stood up with that freckled grin which could soften the coldest heart, "Darcy! Come meet Peter Postlewaite."

A tall slimly built young man who was possessed of dark good looks made more startling by his piercing dark blue eyes regarded Darcy for an appraising moment before bowing courteously. "Delighted to meet you at last Mr. Darcy."

"As I am, Mr. Postlewaite. I confess there were times I thought you were but a figment of Bingley's imagination. He has spoken of you with fondness for so many years but the timing never seemed to be right for meeting each other."

"I fear that was my fault entirely. I have been tied to my estate since I left Cambridge four years ago. It is not easy being a gentleman farmer."

"Indeed it is not." As the three men took their seats Darcy glanced at Bingley and suppressed a smile. Bingley was so transparent. He could not hide the hope that he would like his friend and at least at first glance, he could see no reason he wouldn't. The young man had a relaxed and open countenance and Darcy was prepared to like him for Bingley's sake. "I understand that you come from Nottinghamshire, Mr. Postlewaite."

"I do. I don't know how much you know of my history, sir, but I am only the second son and was meant for the army or the church. I had already decided on the army where I would go forth and do heroic deeds for my country, get killed for my effort and lie in an unmarked grave for eternity."

Darcy laughed, "sounds like plan."

"I thought so at the time. Unfortunately, it was not to be. When I returned home there was a great party to celebrate my mastery of Latin, Greek and history...both modern and ancient...and planned to spend the rest of my life living in a tent when I wasn't sludging through mud and getting shot at."

The droll way he spoke had Darcy and Bingley so convulsed with mirth their hands were shaking as they reached for their glasses of wine. "So how," Darcy managed, "did you become the heir?"

"Ah, well. The morning after my triumphant return I arose with a giant hangover to a brouhaha the likes of which I had never known. My brother the heir to all he surveyed, had run off to the Americas to become a cowboy."

Darcy choked on his wine and took several moments to regain his composure. "Mr. Postlewaite I am truly at a loss for words."

"I can imagine. Even I find the story preposterous. And please call me Pete. Everyone else does...and Postlewaite is such a mouthful."

"An old and revered name."

"As is yours, Mr. Darcy." He dared a sly glance in Bingley's direction. "Poor Bing will have to wait at least a century before his name will be spoken of in hushed voices."

"If ever," Bingley laughed.

"Nonsense, Bing, you've taken the first step." Pete regarded Darcy with a gentle smile, "I don't know whether you're aware of it, Mr. Darcy, but every lesson on estate management you ever gave Bingley, he passed on to me...with all the the requisite blots, of course. You have proved to be an invaluable source of good advice and I'm indebted to you."

Darcy returned his smile, "It's nice to know he was listening. When he gets that blank look on his face I never know if he's thinking of what to wear to the theatre or which lady he's in love with today."

Both men regarded Bingley who was grinning broadly, visibly relaxing.

The next two hours passed easily and by the time they were sipping their second brandy it was a merry little party. Darcy wasn't surprised when Bingley asked Pete to join them all at Netherfield.

"That sounds wonderful, Bing, but are you sure the beauteous Miss Caroline will have no objection?" Pete saw the arched brow of Darcy and grinned, "lately I've been disappointed in love. Therefore, all females are beauteous to me."

Bingley was all concern, "nothing too serious, I hope."

Pete shook his head, "not too. The fair Helena thought that a courtship lasting six years without an offer was a bit too long." At Bingley's look of horror, Pete continued, "Living in a colder climate makes a man move more slowly," Pete drawled. "The truth is we've been friends for years and seeing each other had become a habit that excited neither of us. It would have been a good match but we both wanted more from a marriage. So she asked me not to call again which was no hardship as her father's estate lies twelve miles from mine and a long distant courtship is difficult at best. But now I must find another lady who will look upon me as a most charming companion whom she cannot live without."

Darcy raised his glass, "good luck."

"I'll need it for I sometimes think I'm not half as charming as my mother says I am. Poor woman, she so wants to see me happy and settled. I hate to see her disappointed."

"There are many handsome ladies in Hertfordshire," Bingley said, "that might take a fancy to you and as far as my sister is concerned, I make the major decisions in my house."

Darcy rolled his eyes, "of course you do Bingley. I'm sure that when Caroline learns that there will be ten of us sleeping and eating at Netherfield she will be overjoyed."

Bingley turned pale which for a reason he could not fathom sent Darcy and Peter Postlewaite into gales of laughter. Darcy couldn't wait to introduce this young man to his cousin Richard. Between the two of them, there should be ample amusement when they settled into Netherfield.


	15. AN INTERVAL

Mrs. Reynolds had been making her home at Pemberley for more than forty-five years. As a young girl she had often walked the five miles from the village of Lampton to the estate, drawn by the grandeur of the house and beauty of the gardens and woods. She would spend hours in repose reveling in the peace that Pemberley offered. When a chance to work in the great house came she left her father's small shop and began her life's journey. Strictly speaking she had been hired as an under parlor maid but wherever there was help needed no matter how menial, she was there, offering a hand, always with a smile and never with a complaint. She was more fortunate than most of the girls who were hired for she knew her letters and numbers which gave her a great advantage. Still, it took her nine arduous years before she was at last rewarded for her diligence by taking up the position of assistant to the housekeeper. Once she was second in command she had access to the entire house and every moment she could spare she walked though all the rooms, memorizing the layouts, the sizes, the colors and the views. For another five years she prepared herself for another life change when she would gain what she had desired for half her life. When old Mrs. Brown died of a massive stroke she was fully prepared to take charge of the most beautiful estate in all the land. Mrs. Reynolds had never married nor had she had a moment of remorse for this omission for she looked upon the inhabitants of Pemberley as her family and her life was full.

Through the next thirty years she was witness to so many changes to the fortunes of the Darcys. She had seen her young master take Anne Fitzwilliam to wife and was there when she delivered him a son. And twelve years later when Georgiana was born she was there . And she was there when her dear mistress went to her heavenly reward and she had wept bitterly for her family's loss.

She took great pride in watching the young master grow into a splendid young man who would one day rule over the great estate and was always there to offer him comfort when life had that insidious way of breaking one's heart as it had when his father passed away. A weaker man might have succumbed to the sudden wealth and freedom but Darcy was made of sterner stuff and he had taken the reins of leadership with strength and resolve and her pride in him could bring her to tears. There was only one thing lacking in her paradise. Her life would not be complete until the master married and filled the great hall with the laughter of children.

Servants were supposed to be seen and not heard...and they were certainly not supposed to hear but there were few secrets that she wasn't privy to so when Mrs. Reynolds received a letter from her master relating how Edmund and Juliet Fitzwilliam were on the way to Pemberley she knew exactly what was required. As the housekeeper at Pemberley she was the oldest and most valued servant tending to that vast estate. Little escaped her watchful eye and her young master and his imp of a cousin Richard always spoke freely in her presence.

She had known for some time that the marriage of Eddy and his bride was in trouble so she assumed that what they needed most was a quiet time together...a time to allow Pemberley to work it's magic. With that thought in mind she ordered a pot of coffee and a plate of chocolate biscuits and settled down to create a romantic retreat. Only the smallest and most intimate rooms would be opened for Pemberley's guests. As for the foods they would be served, only the most sensual and decadent would do; foods that would appeal to the eyes, nose and tongue. As she laboriously wrote down the menus she smiled and hummed to herself. It would be an interesting exercise and she was determined that those two silly children would come to their senses. It would also be good practice for when Darcy would bring his own bride back to Pemberley. As long as it wasn't Caroline Bingley.

At the Gardiner residence less romantic visions were taking place. Lydia had dreamed of the day she would appear unannounced on the Gardiner doorstep clutching her husband's arm, a huge diamond gracing her hand and dressed in all her wedding finery. He would be dressed in his red coat looking oh so handsome and proud as she preened and demanded their congratulations for having landed such a husband. From there she would board a fine carriage and return to Longbourn in triumph, gleeful to see the jealous looks of her unmarried sisters. Oh, how she would laugh! Instead she found herself dumped in Cheapside in the dead of night, with the ugly mark of a hand imprinted on her face and hysterical with tears.

The Gardiners had greeted their least favorite niece with relief followed by such shock and dismay that Mr. Gardiner fled back to his bed leaving his dear wife to deal with Lydia's account of what had transpired that very night. That a young woman would speak with such candor and no trace of shame was appalling and unheard of in his circle. What was worse, Mr. Gardiner would have to write to his brother Bennet in the morning. What he could possibly say or how he could word it was beyond him. There was no way he could soften the words to make them more palatable to the father of a fifteen year old from a respectable family. At one point during a sleepless night he thought of ceding his responsibility to his wife, but he could not in all conscience do so. In the end he elected to write only the barest information. Mr. Bennet was many things but he was not a stupid man and he would see the truth behind the unvarnished facts.

The following day proved exhausting and exasperating to both Gardiners as they subjected their niece to lectures on morality and duty to family. Unfortunately, Lydia hardly listened before exploding in anger at their stupidity. They simply couldn't understand that she was in love with Wickham and he was in love with her. She still believed that she had been cheated out of happiness with her beloved Wickie. She accused them of being an unfeeling family, of hiring a thug to treat her savagely and deprive her of true felicity. The Gardiners assumed that this thug who had delivered Lydia to their door was a crony of Wickham and had been sent to deal with Lydia to avoid any scene that might erupt when she learned that he no longer had a use for her.

Lydia was still weeping and complaining loudly when her father appeared the following morning, his face pale with disgust. He directed his youngest daughter to Mr. Gardiner's study and locked the door behind him. Once he was settled behind the desk he regarded his daughter with an icy demeanor which Lydia found more frightening then the few other times she had seen him angry. "For the next two weeks you will stay here and not leave the house. I warn you, daughter, that if I find you have disobeyed me you will have reason to regret it for the rest of your life. You have brought sorrow and disgrace upon your mother and sisters and I find that unforgivable. I will have no qualms about banishing you from our lives forever. And if ever again I hear your lover's name on your lips I swear to the almighty and everything that is holy, I will take you back to the slums without a penny in your pocket and let you fend for yourself. Do I make myself clear?"

When her father had first begun to speak Lydia opened her mouth to argue with him, but by the time he had finished with his short speech Lydia was shaking in terror. She didn't recognize this man whose face was a mask of cold revulsion. When she didn't reply, her father leaned across the desk, "have I made myself clear? I would not wish you to argue that you didn't understand my threat and promise, so I'll ask you one last time, have I made myself clear?" Lydia nodded numbly, her eyes awash with tears. Unmoved, Mr. Bennet sat down again. "While you are here in this house, you will take your meals in your room. Under no circumstances are you to sit down with them for I would not have you contaminate their children."

Lydia regarded her father with horror. "You can't mean that!"

"Do I look like a man who doesn't mean what he says? Have you no idea what you've done to yourself...and by reflection what you've done to your family? Your life will forever be changed due to your reckless disregard for common decency. Now, get out of my sight. I'll be here for another hour before I return home and don't want to see you again on this day."

When his youngest daughter returned to her room, Mr. Bennet sat for a long time with his head bowed, allowing his tears to fall freely.

Charles Bingley had met Fitzwilliam Darcy the day he arrived at Cambridge. By an unbelievable stroke of luck he had been offered rooms to share with the master of Pemberley. To say that he had been terrified during that first meeting was an understatement. He had seen Darcy at the theater and various shops around town and saw him as a tall, handsome, humorless man who seldom smiled or took notice of those around him. He was all that Charles Bingley was not and never would be. It took no longer than an hour before Bingley realized that he had been sorely mistaken in the kind of man Darcy was. His name and position hung heavily about his shoulders making him seem like a cold and disinterested observer of his fellow man but before the first night ended Darcy had proved to be a kind and generous man who was possessed of a devilish sense of humor. They became fast friends and that friendship had remained steadfast during the ensuing years. There was not another soul in the world upon whose good judgment Bingley could have more reliance; no one's advice which invariably proved so sound. So when Darcy advised him to speak immediately to his sister Caroline Bingley he had no choice. It had to be done. Fortunately, Darcy had suggested he first drop Lady Catherine De Bourgh's name and give her time to digest the information that she would be hosting one of the most venerable names in the land who was also the esteemed aunt of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

He followed Darcy's advice and at first he thought his sister was about to faint. She had paled and her breathing quickened as Bingley watched her in fascination. He knew he shouldn't find amusement as her brain wrestled with all the opportunities that were now presenting themselves to her but being human he could not help himself and turned away unable to suppress a wide grin. When he finally got himself under control he turned back to Caroline and added Richard Fitzwilliam, whom she despised, to the list followed quickly with Anne De Bourgh's name. Caroline blinked several times and stared blankly at her brother finding difficulty processing all this information. Bingley completed the guest list with Peter Postlewaite and Georgiana Darcy.

Bingley poured them both some wine and handed her a glass, "with you and the Hursts not to mention Darcy, that makes ten. Will you be able to handle such a crowd?"

Caroline drained the glass and refilled it before sinking into her chair, now fully recovered. "Of course I can manage such a crowd. It will give me a chance to show Darcy what an excellent hostess I am. But I believe that I will travel to Netherfield a little bit early. I want everything to be perfect for him. Oh Charles, my life will never be the same after this summer. You see before you a very happy woman."

Caroline Bingley left for Netherfield the following day taking the Hursts with her. Only one thing could be said about the journey...it was mercifully short, just a half-morning's carriage ride. She had no expectation of pleasure with the estate that her brother had leased without her approval and already she was composing a myriad of apologies for the bad taste of her brother. She had to make it clear to Darcy and his aunt Catherine that her taste in everything fine was unexampled. Hardly aware that she was thinking out loud, she didn't see the sour amusement on her brother-in-law's plump face.

Humphrey Hurst despised his sister-in-love as much as he loved his wife, Lousia, Caroline's unfortunate sister. He blamed her for everything that was wrong with his marriage. There were times when he hardly recognized the sweet fun-loving woman he'd married. The first few years had been full of joy with travel and parties and the quiet times that secured their happiness. All that changed when her father died and Caroline and Charles moved in with them. His life changed overnight. Caroline immediately began to usurp Louisa's authority, making decisions that rightly belonged to his wife. At first Hurst had been amused waiting for Louisa to send her little sister packing but that moment never arrived. Slowly, insidiously Hurst and Louisa began to draw apart. It seemed to Hurst that he was the third wheel of a marriage-a-trois and his resentment towards Caroline flourished in proportion to the unhappiness of his wife. Louisa was no longer the happy independent woman he'd married but had become a quiet, somewhat sullen woman. Every time he spoke of kicking Caroline out of their lives Louisa became unsettled unwilling to sever her relationship with Caroline. Hurst could not bear to see his wife so unhappy so he turned to food and drink to assuage his discontent. Sated and deep in his cups he'd while away the long evenings listening to Caroline describe the many ways she planned to change the rooms at Pemberley when Darcy finally begged for her hand. It was during these moments he'd let his own imagination loose and ponder the various ways he might commit foul murder. His musings ran the gamut from voodoo dolls to quicksand where the last he'd ever see of Caroline would be her orange plumes slowly sinking from sight.

Once Bingley bought his own townhouse and Caroline became his hostess, not much changed in their lives. Louisa was the only one Caroline could confide in so hardly a day passed when the sisters were not together. Louisa complained bitterly that Caroline had become a bore; that she had no conversation beyond the topic of Darcy. She showed no interest in the books he read, and unless he invited the Bingleys and Hursts to join him for the evening, she showed absolutely no interest in the plays or operas he attended so any conversation he allowed with her was of the most superficial kind.

One evening when Charles was home from Cambridge for the holidays both men sat down in Hurst's small library enjoying a postbrandial drink. Charles had never spoken of his early childhood after his mother had died but that night he opened up to Hurst describing how Louisa had become their mother during those dark days. "Louisa was just eleven years old and hardly more than a child herself. Our mother had been feeding Caroline stories of how one day they would all be rich and Caroline would wear beautiful clothes and live in a great mansion with hundreds of servants. When mother died Caroline was inconsolable with grief believing that all of her dreams of becoming a great lady had died with her. It was left to Louisa to reassure her that her dreams were alive and well, that one day a prince charming would come along and take her to live in a castle in the sky."

"And Darcy is that prince and Pemberley is the castle."

Bingley nodded. "I rue the day I introduced her to my friend. Darcy's such a gentleman and puts up with her silliness but I fear that one day he'll fall in love and I shudder to think what Caroline's reaction will be."

Hurst remembered the conversation now as their carriage approached the village of Meryton. He too shuddered to think what might happen if Darcy fell in love and shattered all of Caroline's dreams. How lovely it would be if Darcy would only find the perfect woman this summer. Then, maybe Caroline would come to her senses. She was no longer a spring chicken and it was time to get on with her life.

Despite the overpowering stench of urine and horse droppings, the unwashed public and the smells of poverty which permeated the air of London, Lady Catherine hadn't had so much fun in years. Closeted away in Kent for so many years neither mother nor daughter realized just how outmoded their dresses really were and they spent hours examining dozens of patterns and exquisite fabrics. Anne had always been a beautiful girl but now with her health restored and draped in the finest silks that money could buy she was truly breathtaking. Lady Catherine's own features began to soften as she watched her daughter's beauty blossom; she found herself smiling at each new day, eager to check out another shop for a hidden treasure.

It wasn't until the evening hours after Lady Catherine retired to her rooms that she had the time or inclination to give a thought to the trip to Hertfordshire. Anne and Georgiana were both eager to reacquaint themselves with Miss Elizabeth Bennet and their eagerness translated into whispers and giggles with frequent mentions of Darcy. Both young women seemed to think that she was deaf. She wasn't. She knew very well that her daughter and niece had high hopes for a marriage between Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. Lady Catherine didn't know what she thought of such a marriage. She knew that ten years ago it would have been unthinkable...even a year ago it would have been out of the question. However, so much had changed in the near solitude of the past ten years when all she had wished for was the recovery of Anne and her eventual happiness. Seeing Anne so bright and cheerful in her determination to win Richard, made her study her nephew Darcy in a different light. He had always been quiet and reserved and she'd always assumed that it was in his nature to be so but remembering how he had looked at Elizabeth had altered her opinion considerably. By no stretch of the imagination could she describe herself as being an expert in love but she supposed that when a man and woman couldn't keep their eyes off each other, something was in the air. That it might be serious had completely escaped her...more fool she. In the two dinners they had shared since their arrival in Town, Lady Catherine had studied Darcy in his unguarded moments and realized just how lonely her nephew was. How a man of such wealth and good looks could be lonely was beyond her, but it appeared that he was just that.

Well, she thought with a mental shrug, there was nothing anyone could do about it if Elizabeth Bennet was truly the woman he desired to be mistress of Pemberley and the mother of his children. If there were any misgivings in the family they would have to go unsaid for Darcy was independent enough to forswear his entire family if he suspected rampant disapprobation over his choice of bride. No, there might be gentle rumblings in the family but nothing worse. She was tempted to come right out and ask Darcy point blank just what he planned to do when he got to Hertfordshire but could not think of a delicate way she could ask such an impertinent question. As this last thought crossed her mind she laughed out loud in the darkness. That she would hesitate to be impertinent was a novel idea. As she slipped into a pleasant sleep she wondered how many more changes were in store for her now that she was once more in control of her life.

When Peter Postlewaite's brother deserted his responsibilities for adventure in the Americas Peter was shocked at the defection but not too surprised. He'd known for years that Simon was unhappy with his lot in life; a farmer's life was much too tame for his brother's restless spirit. As far back as Peter could remember, Simon had chaffed under the rules that governed the life that lay before him. As the heir to the Postlewaite fortune, he would attend Cambridge and upon his return begin the life he was born to with all the wealth and prestige he was entitled to. It was one of life's ironies that Simon could not see himself spending the rest of his life watching things grow; that he looked upon his future as a stagnant existence that would eventually smother, then kill him. Peter, on the other hand, was only a spare so he too would be educated at Cambridge, then would choose the military or the church... and he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life on the beautiful estate where he had been born for he found the greatest pleasure in the changing seasons, watching life begin, then sleep before springing awake again. It was his joy to ride the familiar grounds thinking of all the improvements he would make if only the land was his.

Through the years of what he considered his servitude, Simon tried to speak to his father, trying to make him understand how unhappy he was; that Peter was better suited to manage the estate but his father would not listen to him, attributing his discontent to high spirits and growing pains. So Simon remained at the estate saving every penny he could from his substantial allowance and waited for Peter to finish Cambridge. It was another one of life's ironies that Simon's spirit was the impetus that led him to sneak away in the dead of night while his family slept. His father in fury and grief ceded the estate to his youngest son and left for London. Peter's parents never returned to Nottinghamshire.

At the age of two and twenty Peter's life was turned upside down, his life changed from what had been complacence to a compulsion to make his father proud. It took him a full year before he realized that his father didn't care. Those were the lonely years when he became withdrawn and nearly reclusive only allowing visits from his Cambridge chum Charles Bingley. Bingley never pried or asked uncomfortable questions and Peter was content to listen to his friend describe his life in Town, amuse him with stories about his sister Caroline and her obsession with Fitzwilliam Darcy.

When the invitation to spend time with Bingley at his estate in Hertfordshire arrived by post, his inclination was to refuse, no longer confident in his own social abilities. He'd become reticent and a quiet observer of human foibles and frailties not sure he could fit in with a party of friends and family who would be inclined to laugh and play while he, the outsider, would pretend to be something other than a shell of a man. However, he had to admit that it might be fun to be around Bing again for he had never met a man with such a happy disposition. He hoped that some of that happy complacency might rub off on him. The consumption of a bottle of brandy that evening opened his eyes to his loneliness and how foolish he had become and in the morning he penned a note to his old friend with his acceptance and pretended delight.

Now, sitting in Bingley's small library, he was content. Charles was still the same happy young man he'd first met at Cambridge years earlier; still that odd mixture of cleverness and naiveté that made even strangers smile. And, he had finally met the illusive Fitzwilliam Darcy. To his great surprise he found that Darcy was exactly as Bingley had described him. Cool and watchful at first but once comfortable, extremely affable and warm. Peter was rather looking forward to this trip to Hertfordshire. He could never have guessed that his life would once more take a surprising turn for which he would be eternally grateful to Charles Bingley.

The time for his departure for Hertfordshire was fast approaching and Darcy was on edge. He'd been suffering a week of sleepless nights unaided by long solitary walks through the large park adjacent to his house. He seemed incapable of relaxing and spent an inordinate amount of time pacing his library mumbling to himself and reaching for the brandy decanter with unusual frequency. His stomach was tied in knots and he could not account for it. He was a man of the world; master of all he surveyed yet the thought of seeing Miss Elizabeth Bennet again had kept his mind spinning in so many directions he wasn't sure he knew his own name. That an impertinent slip of a girl from a country village could effect him was appalling, annoying and so unfathomable that a part of him still insisted that he would conquer this feeling, though in the deep recesses of his mind he knew it was already too late. He was lost and a man deep in love and he was going to have to do something about it before he went stark, staring mad. His unpleasant ruminations were interrupted by the unannounced entrance of his cousin, Richard, "don't you ever knock?" Darcy snarled, "and where the hell have you been?"

Richard blinked at the greeting, then grinned broadly. He had just returned from Newcastle where he had spent an exhausting week in long talks with his general and even longer periods of soul searching. He had opted not to stop at his family home but to head straight for Darcy's townhouse where he could relax and unwind. Darcy appeared to be in worse shape than he was. He helped himself to a liberal amount of brandy before dropping into his favorite chair, all the while observing his favorite cousin. Darcy was always in control of himself...but Darcy had never been in love before and Richard found the sight of him pacing and glaring quite amusing. "I suppose you're all packed and eager to see your friend's new estate. You must be looking forward to sharing your expertise with Bingley but I hope you will allow yourself some time to walk about the countryside. I'm sure there are many delights to be found in Hertfordshire, or so I've been led to believe."

Darcy stopped his pacing and regarded Richard with a frown. "Never mind me. Where did you get yourself off to? A wild week of debauchery, no doubt."

Richard laughed out loud, "you do have a vivid imagination, cousin. No, on the contrary. I spent most of the week in contemplation of my future. The end result was that I handed in my resignation."

Darcy's jaw dropped in shock, "good grief! How did this come to be?"

"I refused an order from my general."

Darcy didn't have to ask what the order was. "What was his reaction?"

"Well, he didn't threaten me with a firing squad. He took it rather calmly. Apparently men in my line of work burn out quickly. I lasted longer than most. Actually, he offered me a promotion and an office here in Town."

"He offered you a promotion to general and you turned it down?" Darcy was dumbfounded. "Richard, what were you thinking? Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"I thought so. But lately I find that I've lost my taste for the army and the life I've been living."

"What part did the incident with Wickham have to play?"

"Not enough to concern you, Wills. It's been on my mind for several months now." Richard stood and refilled their glasses and handed one to Darcy. Instead of taking his chair again he stood staring down at his cousin with a wry grin. "I know you think I'm the densest spy in all the land, but I did enjoy all your subtle remarks on how beautiful and desirable she had become but I already knew that. Once I realized that I had fallen in love with Anne and wanted to make a life with her I decided to make it it happen. Hence, my trip to Newcastle."

Darcy sat in stunned silence. First Bingley, now Richard. They both found it so easy to act on their inclinations while he dithered and worked himself up into a lather worrying about what Elizabeth was capable of doing to his well-being. It would be much easier if she might feel the same about him but how could he find out without asking directly? "Have you spoken to Anne?"

Richard shook his head, "not yet. I thought at first I would explain what I had been doing in the army. I want her to know the real me."

Darcy shot out of his chair, "you will do no such thing, Richard. Anne doesn't need to know what you've been ordered to do for the crown. Leave it in past where it belongs."

"All this from a man who believes that every disguise is an abhorrence? Shocking!"

"This is no laughing matter, Richard."

"No. I suppose it isn't. Frankly, I'm not quite sure of what my next move is. I doubt if she'd appreciate me grabbing her and saying "what say we get married, kiddo."

Despite himself, Darcy started to laugh at the silly expression on Richard's face. "Perhaps we should ask Bingley about courtship. He's had more experience."

Richard rolled his eyes imagining such a scene, "I'm sure he would be glad to lend us a helping hand, but I think not. I would not wish to appear to be a blushing, blathering idiot to my beloved."

"I've never seen you blush."

The two cousins were just a bit tipsy and still laughing together when they were called to dinner.


	16. HERDFORDSHIRE

In her darkest moments Caroline Bingley's mind would wander back to her childhood in Shropshire where the smell of potatoes and cabbages were her constant companions for the entire neighborhood reeked of these poor staples of poverty. Life for their family was little different from all the other families crammed in their tiny houses in the poorest part of the village except that her father owned a small business and the other fathers worked manually at the various estates that dotted the landscape. Not even the plain, dark, cast-off dresses from her sister, Louisa, set her apart from the other girls for that was her life and she knew no other.

She saw little of her father for his shop was located in Ellesmere, a small market town five miles away from their village. There he worked long arduous hours and found his rest on a small cot in the back of his shop. He would return to their house once a month with baskets of treats which made his long absences more endurable and gave Caroline a sense that her family, despite their poor quality of life, was a cut above their neighbors. Her parent's reunion was always joyous but inevitably ended in a tearful parting for her father could not be away from the shop for more than a day.

Then in her seventh year her father returned on a beautiful summer's day and took his family away from the only home she had ever known and brought them to a small house on the outskirts of Ellesmere. There she would finally see how the rest of the world lived and what she saw became the seed of her malcontent. As her father's business prospered and they could afford a cook and maid and fine muslins to clothe themselves it was never enough for Caroline. She always wanted more and her mother fed this appetite with promises of a better life if she would only be patient for it was only a matter of time before they became rich and all her dreams would come true. She would become a great lady and all the men would fall in love with her and beg for her hand in marriage. But patience was not in her nature and as frequently as she could she would punish herself by walking into the center of town to see all the fine ladies decked out in their fine silks and carrying the exquisite parasols that hid their white complexions from the sun. She wanted so much to be one of those ladies and she would be for her mother had promised her that one day she would be rich and much admired and her words were like food to Caroline.

When her mother died so tragically in a carriage accident a year after they left their village, Caroline's grief was but momentary and only for herself for she feared that her dreams had died with her mother. It was left to Louisa to comfort her with reassurances that all her dreams for a bright future would be answered. And now, she could see her future coming to fruition. There was not a doubt in her mind that she would soon be the mistress of Pemberley and finally take her place in the society that she should have born to. It would be the perfect payback for all the years she suffered deprivation during her miserable childhood.

As her carriage entered Meryton she glanced through the window and was not pleased with what she saw. It was too much like the village where she was born and wished never to be reminded of. Adding to her annoyance, her eyes met with those of a young woman who stared back with undisguised appraisal and never lowered her eyes in the accustomed way to show deference to her betters. If that young woman was a sample of what the inhabitants were like, they were nothing less than barbarians. Poor Mr. Darcy. How he would suffer when he realized that Charles had leased an estate in such an uncivilized country. At the first opportunity she would let Darcy know how inferior she thought Hertfordshire to that of Derbyshire.

Elizabeth Bennet had just stepped out of the small book shop as the large carriage moved slowly though the market day crowd. She could only see three people in the coach and no one she recognized. The coach was too large and elegant to belong to any of the inhabitants of Meryton or it's environs and the village was a dead end. It had to be on it's way to Netherfield Park. One of the occupants regarded her with glacial curiosity before turning away and Elizabeth idly wondered if the woman might be Caroline Bingley. According to Georgiana Darcy's exaggerated description of her, she could lower the temperature of a room.

She looked up the street expecting to see at least another carriage but there was nothing more to see. She spent several minutes gazing with pretended fascination at the display windows of the local shops as she waited for another coach to rumble into town but at last gave up. She tried to calm herself as she walked home making the most of her disappointment. It was probably best that they not come across each other in such a brief fashion. Better to meet at an assembly or better still on one of the many paths that wove through the countryside. There were so many places they might meet accidentally where in privacy she might better judge his demeanor towards her. He might even ride up to Oakham Mount where she could be sitting beneath a tree reading. Elizabeth stopped in her tracks but had presence of mind to glance around to make sure she was alone on the road before she let her head hang low in bewilderment. How had this man so insinuated himself into her thoughts, so invaded her dreams? She felt so helpless and frustrated and angry at the hopelessness of her situation. She knew in her heart that he could not possibly feel the same way about her and yet she would not let him go. She'd received a letter from Anne, who promised that she and Georgie were looking forward to seeing her again but there had not been a mention of Darcy or an allusion to her youngest sister. She hadn't heard from Mary either. Surely Mr. Collins had told the De Bourghs about Lydia's defection so why hadn't Anne mentioned it? She didn't know what to think and the process of grappling with all her questions was exhausting.

The sound of a cart moving into the road allowed her to move forward again. So the long wait was coming to a close. Darcy would be arriving in the next few days and she would see him again or he would avoid her. Whichever way it went, at least she could stop worrying about it which in a small way was a blessing for there were times she sincerely believed she'd go mad. She had to take control of her life and face what was probably going to be a bleak and lonely life and she had to get on with it. Besides, she had other things to worry her. Lydia had come home at last and though Mr. Bennet swore that he had put the fear of the almighty in her and indeed she had returned in a somewhat subdued state, it hadn't lasted past one day. Back in the bosom of her family with Mrs. Bennet as an ally, Lydia was little changed in her attitude. She was loud and demanding and unashamed. She was also vastly amused at the story that the family had circulated about her adventure. According to them, on the way from Brighton to London her chaperon had convinced her of the evil of this elopement and she, full of remorse, fell ill thinking of how her poor family must be suffering. It had taken her three weeks to recover under the gentle care of her aunt and uncle Gardiner. Elizabeth thought the story preposterous and anyone with a grain of common sense would see it for what it was...pure hogwash. But that was their story and they were stuck with it. That Lydia would be audacious enough to laugh at their attempts to mitigate her egregious behavior had enraged Elizabeth. As for her father, she had grown resigned. Once more he had ceded all responsibility to Mrs. Bennet and turned a deaf ear to Lydia's foolishness. He seemed incapable of controlling his family...not when a glass of port and a good book awaited him in the library. As she neared the gates of Longbourn, she decided it was best not to fight the wind, as Charlotte suggested.

Two hours after Lizzie returned home, her aunt Phillips arrived, spreading the latest news. Miss Caroline Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst had arrived at Netherfield. "Oh sister! I have heard that they are the most elegant ladies, tall and slim and dressed in the finest silks."

Mrs. Bennet squealed in delight. "But sister, have no other men come with them?"

"I have it on good authority that Mr. Bingley is returning with a large party of at least a dozen young gentlemen who are anxious to make the acquaintance of everyone in the vicinity."

"And," Elizabeth asked, "from whom have you received this information, Aunt Phillips?"

"I was lucky enough to run into the Netherfield cook at the butcher shop."

"I see. And I'm sure the cook is a close confidant of Mr. Bingley."

"Indeed she is, Lizzie. The very pulse of an estate."

Elizabeth exchanged a smile with Jane and signaled her sister to follow her. At the doorway she turned and looked at her mother and aunt. "And there," she whispered, "sit two of the silliest woman in England." When they reached the garden Elizabeth thought it best to issue a warning. "Jane, when I was in Kent, I heard a great deal about Miss Bingley...none of which put her in a good light. According to Miss De Bourgh and Miss Darcy, Miss Bingley is rather a nasty lady who thinks herself above the rest of us and I saw her earlier this afternoon as her carriage entered Meryton. The look she gave me was so icy I could not move a muscle for a full five minutes."

"Oh Lizzie," Jane laughed, "I'm sure she can't be that bad."

"I fear she may be worse. Jane, I know very well that the subject of Lydia must come up in each house in Meryton at least once a day. Gossip is our delight. We've been lucky that the village has not shunned us but it would have been too much to ask that their tongues should stop wagging. There's no doubt in my mind that before the day is out, Miss Bingley will have heard of our family's disgrace and from what I've heard of her, she will be loud in her disapprobation and will want nothing to do with our family. Knowing how people normally react to the wealthy, I would not be surprised if our friends follow Miss Bingley's lead."

"Oh, Lizzie, I can't believe our neighbors would turn on us. And I can't believe that Mr. Bingley would allow it."

Elizabeth regarded her sister with affection and amusement, "oh, Jane, I wish I could be more like you. But I can't. I seriously doubt if she'll be anxious to make our acquaintance. And I doubt she'll be overly pleased if her brother shows an interest in you, particularly after she hears about Lydia."

"Perhaps she won't hear about our troubles, Lizzie."

Seeing the disappointment wash over Jane's lovely face gave Elizabeth pause and she quickly added, "Of course I also heard that Miss Bingley is not at all like her brother; that he is a very sweet young man and well liked by all who know him. Besides, everything I was told came from Miss De Bourgh who has never met the Bingleys. She got all her information from Miss Darcy. Georgie is just sixteen and perhaps she still sees everything from a child's point of view."

"Yes. Yes, that is probably the truth of it. We must not jump to conclusions."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded her agreement watching her sister's concern dissolve into expectation. Jane was so eager to see the world as it did not exist except in novels. She made a mental note not to look into the mirror for at least a week. She would hate to think her own face reflected so much hope. Elizabeth read the society pages and knew that what the highborn did was tolerated with a wink and a nudge. With those on the lower ladder of society, ostracism could come swiftly. Caroline was reaching high to snare the master of Pemberley; she would not endure her brother attaching himself to a country nobody.

That evening at dinner Mrs. Bennet would not shut up...except for when Lydia added her excited comments. Mother and daughter could not contain their delirium at the prospect of rich, handsome young men coming to the area. Kitty had the grace to look uncomfortable and Jane grew silent. Mr. Bennet continued to eat at a leisurely pace.

Before the thought formed in her mind, Elizabeth addressed her mother in as reasonable a tone as she could muster, "do you really think that wealthy men of the gentry will be interested in a fifteen year old who ran away with a soldier and lived with him in the slums of London? Of course I admit I don't know that much about high-born men, but I shouldn't think they'd want to be seen in the company of what some would call used goods...especially when they are guests of Miss Bingley who is such an elegant lady who dresses in only the finest silks." The silence which greeted Elizabeth's remark was terrible and she took a gulp of her wine and continued before she lost courage. "And Mama', did I not tell you that the honorable Lady Catherine De Bourgh will be visiting Netherfield Park? She is the most formidable woman I have ever met. If she is displeased with the company her fellow guests keep, she will most certainly speak to Miss Bingley and Miss Bingley who respects nobility above all else will probably not hesitate to return to London taking her brother with her...along with all the rest of the handsome men who are so anxious to meet us." She dared not to continue...not because she had nothing more to say, but she could hear the tremor in her voice and refused to dissolve into angry tears.

t was rather comical to watch Mrs. Bennet trying to speak...her lips were moving but not a sound escaped her mouth. Lydia, however, had no problem in voicing her anger. "How dare you speak to me like that? Who do you think you are? Mama', tell her to apologize!" Unfortunately Mrs. Bennet still had not found her voice. She was also, Elizabeth suspected, seeing all the rich men leaving the area en masse.

Lydia turned to her father, "Papa'?"

Mr. Bennet drained the rest of his wine and leveled a look at his youngest daughter, "what would you have me say, Lydia? You brought this on yourself. And you arrive back home without an iota of remorse or shame. Innocence in our society is a highly valued commodity and you are no longer an innocent. What you are is an empty headed, loud-mouthed girl who has gone from being a petty annoyance to a very large headache. Now go to your room and read a book...if you can read." Mr. Bennet left the room and moments later they heard his library door close behind him. A few moment later Lydia threw her napkin down and followed him.

Hours later Tamsin Lydia Bennet stood at her window gazing out into the distance watching the flickers of light in the tiny village of Meryton. All the respectable citizens would have returned to their homes hours ago leaving the less honorable natives to enjoy the various amusements offered by the town. In the hall she heard the steps of her sister Kitty move past her door, not stopping until she reached her own room. Her alienation now seemed complete. None of her friends had come to visit her since her return and Kitty no longer felt a need to stop in for a chat before they retired. Elizabeth had made her feelings crystal clear at the dinner table and the rules now imposed upon her by her father simply were unacceptable. After all, she would celebrate her sixteenth birthday in five days, yet the party planned for her would be a dull affair with only her immediate family and the Phillips attending. She was forbidden to go to town unless accompanied by her father and assemblies were absolutely prohibited. They were intent upon crushing her spirit and she would not have it.

She had always been a free spirit unwilling to adhere to the rules that governed a woman's life. As far back as she could remember she wanted out of the village life and into a place where the only rules she had to adhere to were the ones she made for herself. She remembered the day of her thirteenth birthday when in her own mind she had become a woman. On that day she threw away all childish things starting with the name her father had given her. Thomas Bennet had named her after his long dead twin sister, Tammie, but she never thought the name suited her. From that day on she refused to answer to anything but Lydia, which had a more sophisticated sound to her ears. Well, if loss of innocence was sophistication, she was that, alright. At least Wickham had done that much for her. He had also taught her what pleased a man and she had proved herself an apt student. She would never be the same young girl who had gone to Brighton.

She opened her closet and rummaged for the small box which had been the only gift that Wickham had presented her with during their one week tryst. Checking to make sure her door was firmly locked, she sat down at her dressing table and opened the small chest. She sighed with pleasure as she regarded the contents. There was several bottles and jars containing red and white powder pellets and red lip pomades. Pencils of kohl and an assortment of brushes completed her makeup kit. She hadn't had much time to try to improve on mother nature but she knew exactly who she could apply to.

She slipped into her dark cape and hood and blew the candles out and climbed out of the window and stood for a moment on the narrow veranda which ran along the back of the house. Another moment and she gained the stairs at the end of the gallery and descended. It took her no more than twenty minutes to reach the tiny shack where Kate Winslow lived and worked. She rapped on the door then entered, as was her practice, confident she wouldn't be interrupting a private moment for the red lantern was not lit.

The two young women greeted each other like old friends, which they were. Lydia's natural curiosity about the demimonde had prompted her to make the acquaintance of Kate Winslow a year earlier. Kate had been plying her trade since her mother had passed away two years earlier. It was a loathsome way to make a living but there were few opportunities for employment in such a small community and the money was good. Besides, not a day went by without dreaming of her escape and it was this fervent desire that cemented the two girl's friendship for they both shared the same dream and could talk of nothing but the day they would leave Meryton far behind them.

When she slipped back into her room shortly before dawn, Lydia's plans were made and she climbed beneath the covers and fell fast asleep feeling no remorse, convinced that at any sorrow her actions might visit upon her family would be fleeting at best.

The housekeeper at Netherfield was not a happy woman. She had been serving the owners of that estate for the past twenty years and had stayed on when they decided to retire to Town. She herself had reached a time of retirement but remained at her post until the estate was sold. When she met with Mr. Bingley she formed an instant liking for him and promised that she would stay on as long as he needed her. She hadn't counted on the charming young man having a sister who used her voice like a bull whip and treated her with such disdain...never mind the way she spoke to the servants who worked hard and were good girls from their village. Without a doubt Mrs. Biggs found the new mistress of Netherfield Park the most disagreeable woman she had ever had the misfortune to meet. Over their Wednesday lunch ritual at the local inn she complained bitterly to her best friend, Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper at Longbourn, "Abbie, the woman is a horror! She speaks to me the way I wouldn't speak to a scullery maid.! It would serve her right if I quit and took all the servants with me."

"Is it true that Mr. Bingley is bringing with him a dozen men?"

Mrs. Biggs snorted, "where on earth did you hear that?"

"From Mrs. Phillips who had it from your cook."

Mrs. Biggs rolled her eyes, "there will be ten occupying the park, only one of which seems to matter to Miss Bingley. She can't order the day's menu without mentioning Mr. Darcy and what his favorites are. I think the lady has set her plumed hat for him but I don't think she'll succeed. I met with Mr. Darcy last year when he and Mr. Bingley viewed the estate. He looks like he has too much sense to fall for the likes of a Miss Bingley. At least I hope so. The man who tries to pry her legs apart will find he has lost a valuable part of his anatomy to frostbite."

The two old friends had a good laugh at the expense of Caroline Bingley and continued on in such a fashion until it was time to return to their responsibilities.

Elizabeth hadn't seen Charlotte for several days so on the off-chance that she might find her friend she headed straight for their favorite meeting place. Sure enough there was her dearest friend sitting beneath the tree, her knees pulled up to her chin, her lime colored muslin spread all about her. She wasn't reading but had adopted a wistful pose as she stared at the blue sky. Elizabeth didn't move but continued watching her until Charlotte sensed her presence and stood up abruptly. Elizabeth was shocked to see that her friend had been weeping. She moved forward quickly, "Charlotte, are you ill?"

"Are you always ill when you weep, Lizzie?"

"Of course not., but..."

"Then allow me my tears, Lizzie." At Elizabeth's stunned expression, Charlotte laughed out loud. "Oh dear, have I disappointed you?"

"Of course not, but has something happened? They're not sending you away again?"

"No. Nothing like that. Just feeling a little bit lonely, that's all. No one can talk of anything else but the handsome young men who will be spending the summer at Netherfield. All the mothers are confident they can can marry off their daughters and all the daughters are beyond excitement. They see no reason why all their dreams can't come true. Would it surprise you to know that there was a time when I thought my dreams would come true also? I too had hopes of finding a husband...of having a home and children."

"Oh, Charlotte, can you ever forgive me? I've been so wrapped up in my own problems, I've not given a thought to how you are feeling. I'm thoroughly ashamed of myself "

"There's nothing to forgive, Lizzie. I've just been indulging in some wishful thinking. It will pass and I will be as I ever was."

In London, four carriages stood ready at the Darcy townhouse; three of them packed solid with luggage and servants and the third with Darcy, Bingley and Peter Postlewaite. Richard, with his new sensibilities had offered to stay behind and accompany Lady Catherine, Anne, and Georgiana. They would not be leaving for another three days as their new elegant gowns were not quite ready. The moment their carriage began to move Bingley cried, "we're off! At last!"

Darcy exchanged an amused glance with Peter, "I've never known a man to be so anxious to get to work."

"Indeed! Think of the long hours locked in his library, poring over the books. And how tedious it is to list the names of all his tenants who will need a good flogging if they don't perform to his standards."

"Such an onerous part of being a gentleman farmer. All that blood."

"Ah, but the rewards are great, Mr. Darcy, you must admit! After a good flogging there are the assembly balls where he can dance the night away."

"I have not forgotten that aspect I assure you, Mr. Postlewaite. But have you forgotten the long tedious hours in the saddle surveying one's property? How many times I've returned home bent over and unable to keep my legs together."

"There is a simple cure for that, Mr. Darcy. I have found that if you down three or four brandies, then strategically stuff a pillow in your breeches, all will be well. Then you can attend the assemblies and be assured that the crowds will give you plenty of space."

"And will they regard you with admiration?"

"They will regard you...on that subject I have no more to say."

Bingley finally turned from the window, "you're wasting your breath. I'm not listening. You two might better employ yourselves with your books and leave me to my inscrutable thoughts of which I have plenty."

"Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters," Darcy quoted. He opened his book and settled down for a good read for the next three hours. Peter did the same.

Bingley was left to his inscrutable thoughts of Jane Bennet and how she was faring with her sister's fall from grace. The rules of proper conduct were so arbitrary. He knew of several instances where a member of a family had erred in judgment and no real harm had resulted. Men, of course, were automatically exempted from the rules. Dally with a servant and a harsh word from the head of the family was his just punishment. With a woman, a trip abroad until the gossip died down was all she could expect usually. To Bingley's certain knowledge the sins of one errant member were seldom passed on to the rest of the family, but that all depended on the status of the family, how vast was their estate, and how much money they were rumored to possess. The status of the Bennet family would be of such insignificance in Town that the scandal would be little noted and would fade after a moment of time. In Meryton, it was of greater importance and one which he felt sure his sister would pounce on with great delight if it suited her. And knowing Caroline, it would suit her. Anything or anyone who might draw him away from London and Derbyshire would be treated with great cruelty. Making things worse, he suspected that Miss Elizabeth Bennet had drawn Darcy's attention in such a way that would be intolerable to his sister. What should have been a joyous journey back to Hertfordshire was now fraught with peril as he would have to try to navigate between his sister's cold heart and Jane Bennet's gentle spirit.

After an hour Darcy finally closed his book accepting that he could not concentrate. He glanced at Bingley who still had his head turned to the window. As the miles rolled by bringing them closer to Hertfordshire he felt uneasy for his friend. His own problems seemed small compared to what Bingley would have to face if Jane Bennet was the woman he chose as his bride. He'd never witnessed Caroline in a roiling fury for which he was grateful and he could not rely on Bingley's description as it was not in his nature to be unkind. Humphrey Hurst, on the other hand, was a different kind of fish. However, Hurst didn't even try to hide his disdain for his wife's sister so his description of Caroline going off the deep end had to be suspect. Darcy suspected that the truth lay somewhere in between which would be formidable enough. He despised ungoverned anger above all things and would never tolerate it.

Peter had lowered his book to regard the two gentlemen sitting across from him. He had never known two close friends who were so dissimilar in personality so it was rather interesting to see their demeanors so similar now. What should have been a merry party heading for a sojourn in an unfamiliar land had made both men seem troubled though Peter could not imagine why. Bingley kept fidgeting with his cravat and regularly feeling his pulse, while Darcy kept twisting his pinky ring. The plot was thickening and Peter Postlewaite loved a mystery. This should be fun, he thought, before continuing his tortuous way though La Divina Commedia. He lasted for another five minutes before putting the small volume away and closing his eyes for a brief rest. He doubted he'd finish the book. It was more fun to watch heaven and hell unfold in real time than to read about it in a Tuscan dialect.

A scant two hours before Bingley's coach arrived at Netherfield, shock, sorrow and disbelief had descended upon Longbourn. Lydia had not taken breakfast with her family. This was no longer an unusual occurrence as she had not been breaking her fast with her family for the last several days. When she did not appear at lunch, Mrs. Hill was dispatched to her room. When she returned a few minutes later her expression and the letter she handed Mr. Bennet was all they needed to know.

"Dear Papa,

By the time you read this letter I will be long gone. Wickham came for me tonight as I knew he would. We are to be married and I beg you not to interfere again for this time we will not be found. I will write as soon as we are settled.

Your loving daughter, Tammie."


	17. ASSEMBLY

Caroline Bingley greeted two of her guests with feigned enthusiasm. She allowed a brief buss on the cheek by her brother and offered a brief, limp hand to Peter. The amenities over, she moved in on her prey, "Mr. Darcy," she cried, "welcome to Netherfield!" She wrapped her arm around his and clutched it firmly, enjoying the feel of his arm against her flat breast. Darcy tried not to squirm and Bingley turned away in embarrassment. Peter, however, fixed his eyes on Caroline with undisguised interest. Most ladies of the Ton showed a shade of propriety but she had shown absolutely no subtlety which surprised him. For someone who took great pride in her friendship with Darcy as well as all manner of appropriate behavior, she had just made a very serious mistake, one which a decent man might find unforgivable. He allowed a trace of pity to linger on his face before following Bingley up the stairs where the Hursts were waiting to greet them all.

Louisa embraced Bingley with affection, "Netherfield is beautiful Charles, I know you'll be happy here."

"Well done!" Hurst offered.

The Hursts welcomed Peter with good cheer and waited patiently for Caroline to make it up the stairs clutching the hapless Darcy. When the pair gained the top of the stairs, Hurst stuck his hand out to Darcy...something he seldom did... and Caroline was forced to release her death grip on Darcy's arm. For Hurst's act of good breeding he received a venomous glare from Caroline and a nod of thanks from her guest. Darcy took Louisa's hand and squeezed it with affection before escaping into the house.

By the time he was shown his room, Darcy was seething and unnerved. The next few weeks were going to prove unendurable unless he could get Caroline off his back. There had been a time when her arts and allurements had been less indelicate and almost comical but her grip on him when she greeted him was downright blatant and had left him in stunned disbelief. That a woman would deliberately press her breast against him was shocking. That she would commit such an overt act witnessed by two men, one of whom was her own brother, went beyond the pale. Her fixation on him had to come to an end. His ego was healthy enough to realize that her obsession had nothing to do with him personally, but only with his wealth and Pemberley. He could see no way out of his dilemma except to talk to Bingley which would be demeaning to both of them. Their friendship went back so far that he was loathe to bring up the subject fearing to jeopardize their relationship, but it was that or he would have to rent a room at the local inn and that would be an insult of the highest order.

After an extremely slow wash-up as he considered all his options he descended the stairs and entered one of the smaller dining room and to his surprise found everyone already seated. Caroline was at one end of the table with the the Hursts on either side of her. At the other end sat Bingley with Peter sitting next to him.

When Caroline looked up and saw him standing in the doorway she didn't try to hide her consternation, "Charles! How come you to tell me that Mr. Darcy was not lunching with us?"

"My mistake, Caroline."

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief and took his place next to Bingley. His food would be more digestible now that he wouldn't have to play footsies with his hostess.

"Very careless of you Charles!" She addressed Darcy in a softer manner, "and how are your rooms to your liking, Mr. Darcy? I hope you approve of my taste? I took great pains in choosing the most tasteful rooms that were available...of which there are few, I'm sorry to say. I fear the owners of this park have stayed too long in the country." She snorted at her witticism.

Darcy gritted his teeth at the sound. "Excellent, as always, Miss Bingley," he replied. To Hurst, he asked, "so tell me, Hurst, how do you find Meryton? Are there many sights to behold in the village? By Bingley's account there are many young ladies to feast one's eyes upon. I'm looking forward to finding out for myself after lunch. What say we walk into town later?"

"What an agreeable plan," replied Hurst with a broad grin. You will not be disappointed, Darcy. Soft muslins abound in town...such a relief from silk and plumes." He refrained from glancing at his sister-in-law who was dressed for a visit from the queen.

Caroline's lips thinned, "I saw nothing in that dirty little village to recommend itself to a gentleman such as yourself, Mr. Darcy."

Peter decided to join the fun. "Ah, but Miss Bingley, you can't see women the same way that men do. We red-blooded men find country lassies entrancing creatures. I might add that upon such occasions our thoughts can be less than gentlemanly. What say you, Darcy?"

Darcy arched a brow at his new friend, "indeed, I find they lack all the studied arts of the ladies in Town. As a matter of fact, while in Kent recently, I met a lovely young woman who makes her home in the country. Quite delightful and well read. We had many debates and she could hold her own which made her a pleasure to talk to."

"I know that feeling," Peter replied. "as intelligent and witty as I may appear to the present company, I do occasionally enjoy being put in my place by a pretty young woman. It makes me feel that the fair lady in question has been paying attention and possesses a modicum of sense."

Everyone at the table laughed except Caroline Bingley who eyed the young man with distaste. "Ladies who have decided opinions are not a part of my social group, Mr. Postlewaite."

"Then I am very sorry for you, Miss Bingley. It must make your tea parties very dull affairs."

Bingley, who had remained quiet through these exchanges finally spoke, "there is an assembly tomorrow night. I hope everyone has brought their dancing shoes"

"I can imagine what an insipid affair that will be," Caroline said.

"Then," her brother responded, "you need not go, Caroline. I'm sure you have enough fashion magazines to keep you occupied for a few hours."

Caroline's face went scarlet. Her eyes flicked to Darcy who studied his plate with interest. Whatever she might have said, she thought better of it and remained silent for rest of the meal.

Darcy finished his excellent lunch feeling relief wash over him. There was not going to be a need for him to speak to Bingley. His three friends had decided to take matters into their own hands. Unless Caroline was extremely dense, she had to understand that he had no interest in her or he would not talk so freely about other women. At least he hoped so. He would still have to take a care when he met with Elizabeth. If Caroline guessed that Elizabeth was the woman he found so delightful there was no telling what her reaction might be though he suspected that Elizabeth Bennet could take care of herself. If fact, for amusement purposes only, it might be a lot of fun to watch two such fundamentally different woman facing off with each other. There was no doubt who would win the battle of words. Elizabeth might not appreciate poetry, but Darcy was of the opinion that if she could best him, she could dispense with the Caroline Bingleys of the world. His real concern was for Bingley and Jane Bennet. With the mood Caroline was in she would not take too kindly to Elizabeth's sister, but then again he was probably worrying too much. Bingley had proved that he could handle his sister if he chose to and if Jane Bennet was as sweet as Bingley had described her, and his affection true, his natural inclination to protect a woman would keep her from words that could draw blood. He could only hope.

In town they did not run into anyone they knew much to Bingley's disappointment though he tried unsuccessfully to hide it. Peter, however, wasn't fooled. As for Darcy, whatever he might be feeling did not show on his face. Peter could imagine the kind of woman that Bingley would be interested in...blond and saintly... but what kind of woman would appeal to Darcy was harder to fathom; he was such a reticent man, never giving his innermost thoughts away. He could not imagine Darcy being interested in the kind of woman that would appeal to Bingley; Louisa Hurst was just a bit too placid and Caroline Bingley made his skin crawl. "Do you enjoy dancing, Darcy?" he asked.

Darcy was surprised at the question, "not particularly."

Hurst volunteered more information. "The only pleasure to be derived by Darcy's dancing is for the spectators, especially when he dances with Caroline. She points her nose in the air and looks bored...her idea of sophistication...while he resembles a colicky horse."

Bingley hooted at the picture Hurst was painting and protested. "More like a horse in need of exercise and ready to bolt from the barn."

"Do be quiet, both of you," Darcy admonished lightly.

Peter looked for a sign of annoyance from this tall distinguished looking man but saw only resigned amusement. The more he saw of this man, the more he liked. On the surface he appeared to be cold and humorless, but scratch that surface and Darcy became a delightful companion, one who could be teased and not take offense. A woman might have difficulty dealing with such a man however; might find him too cold. It would be interesting to see how things worked out for Darcy. As a disinterested observer of the human condition it might be amusing to further their romance if it was in his power. Though dancing was not one of his strengths, he was looking forward to the assembly on the morrow.

At Longbourne the following night Elizabeth could think of nothing but Darcy. She longed to see him, to hear his voice, but she did not want to attend the assembly. She was still in shock over Lydia's elopement in the middle of the night and she felt guilty for the terrible things she had said at the dinner table. She feared in her heart that it had pushed Lydia to take desperate measures. She was thoroughly ashamed of herself and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide her face from the world. But it was not to be. Word would soon spread that Lydia found that she simply could not live without George Wickham, that he had come for her...truly was there anything more romantic?...and had run off with him to marry and live happily ever after. And where better to celebrate this happy conclusion than at an assembly dance where all their neighbors would be congregating that evening. Elizabeth felt humiliated at the lies she would be witness to this evening and had spent most of the day trying to convince her mother to remain mute on the subject...wishing thinking...for her mother had taken Lydia's note at face value and believed every word. Neither Elizabeth nor her father believed a word of it. What Lydia's escape in the middle of the night portended, neither father nor daughter dared think of, accepting that she was probably lost forever.

She allowed her maid to dress her in a simple muslin, then tie her hair up in matching ribbons. In the hall outside her door she heard her mother delivering orders to Kitty in her high-pitched voice just before Elizabeth's door slammed open and she barged into the room. "Oh, you look very pretty tonight, Lizzie, though you can't hold a candle to Jane who looks like a golden goddess as usual"

"Mother, don't forget your promise not to speak of Lydia unless you are asked specifically about her whereabouts."

"Yes, yes," Mrs. Bennet responded with impatience before slamming back out the door.

Elizabeth's heart sank. Her mother was incapable of keeping her mouth shut. Elizabeth looked longingly at her bed. She could see nothing but abject humiliation stretching out before her. And Darcy would witness it all.

Charlotte Lucas had been sitting at her dressing table staring at her reflection for nearly fifteen minutes, unable to find the energy to finish dressing. She had absolutely no desire to spend the evening in a crowded room watching men and women pairing off to dance and flirt the night away. At the age of seven and twenty she doubted seriously if she had the power to beguile a man by fluttering her lashes or fan without appearing slightly demented though her mother insisted that she do so. Besides, there were no eligible men who might be interested in a spinster excepting the friends of her father and she knew all of them as foolish old men who enjoyed harmless flirtations and had no interest in her except as a dance partner. Still, she must attend for it was expected of her, though she would have preferred a quiet evening settled with a good book or even at the pianoforte playing a melancholy air which would better suit her mood. When she finally made her way downstairs with a practiced smile on her plain face, her parents hardly spared her a glance for she was a lost cause and all their attention was focused on her younger sister, Maria, upon whom they had great hopes for she was a pretty girl and not too dim-witted.

The Lucas party was greeted with perfunctory politeness when they entered the assembly hall for the several families who had arrived earlier than was their usual practice were more concentrated on awaiting the arrival of the Netherfield party. Rumors were rife about the male guests at Netherfield. There was Mr. Bingley whom everyone knew had five thousand pounds income and there was a Peter Postlewaite, a handsome young man who hailed from Nottinghamshire whose estate brought in a clear six thousand pounds. But the creme de la-creme was a Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy who hailed from Derbyshire and was known to have ten thousand a year. That three wealthy young men would descend upon their small country simply boggled the mind and all the mothers and a few fathers were atwitter with anticipation and hope for their daughters.

Charlotte viewed the scene with indifference and even when a hush descended upon the room she turned to the entrance with a disinterested glance at the newcomers. She recognized Charles Bingley as he stepped into the room with two finely dressed women, followed by a plump gentleman and two of the handsomest men that Charlotte had ever seen in her life. Charlotte had to admit that these two examples of male beauty could thaw the coldest heart. She felt a tiny flutter of pleasure and inwardly smiled at her foolishness.

Sir Lucas being the only knight of the realm who made his home in the neighborhood...he had once been mayor of Meryton...felt it his duty to once again introduce himself to Mr. Bingley and welcome his guests to their modest assembly hall. With bluff courtesy he introduced his honored guests to his family. Mrs. Lucas curtsied and complimented the ladies on their gowns...which was a sign of poor breeding in society...Maria dropped her mouth and went mute and Charlotte, from years of practice, steadfastly maintained a calm dignity.

The moment Darcy entered the hall he looked around searching for Elizabeth but she had apparently not arrived yet. His disappointment was acute but eased somewhat when he realized he was standing next to her dearest friend, Charlotte Lucas. "Miss Lucas," he said, "I'm delighted to meet you at last for I have heard much about you from Miss Bennet."

Charlotte was taken by surprise to be addressed by Mr. Darcy and replied without thinking, "which Miss Bennet would that be, Sir?"

"Er...Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I was not aware that you knew my friend."

"We met recently in Kent."

"Did you? I'm surprised she didn't mention it."

Darcy managed a smile, "perhaps she didn't think it important enough to mention."

"Oh, I'm sure that was not the case, Mr. Darcy." She hastened to add, "I'm afraid that Lizzie has had other things on her mind in recent days and we haven't had as much time together as we would like. I expect she will be here at any moment and will be delighted to see you again." Her attention was called away by an aging crony of her father's who begged for the first dance which she accepted as graciously as she could muster. As she moved onto the dance floor she hoped fervently that she hadn't spoiled things for her friend. Mr. Darcy had looked decidedly discomfited by the knowledge that Lizzie had not mentioned her acquaintance with him.

Feeling somewhat like a fool, Darcy bowed and made his way to the end of the hall and stationed himself at the window. He should never have mentioned that he knew Elizabeth especially now knowing that his acquaintance with her was of such small significance that she had not bothered to tell her best friend of it.

Peter, who had been witness to this brief exchange had also moved to the side of the room which gave him a good vantage point in which to view his fellow guests. Mr. Hurst had planted himself next to the food and drink tables, Bingley was engaged in conversation with several gentlemen while keeping an eye on the entrance. Across from him Caroline was sharing what looked like some scathing remarks with her sister who looked resigned and bored, and Darcy was leaning against the the window frame looking like a storm cloud. Peter had forgotten what fun an assembly could be.

His attention was suddenly drawn to the noisy bustle at the entrance where a matronly woman was ushering in three young women while at the same time seemed to be devouring the room with hungry eyes. Peter had no problem recognizing Jane Bennet for indeed she looked positively angelic with such a sweet smile on her countenance. The next young girl was nondescript and tended towards giggles and Peter dismissed her immediately. Surely she was not the fair Elizabeth. A third young woman entered the hall with lowered eyes looking ill-at-ease. Peter glanced at Darcy who was now standing up straight, staring intently at the newcomers. Peter waited expectantly for Darcy to move towards the young ladies but instead, he seemed to find the floor of greater interest and so missed the look from luminous eyes that sought his before lowering her eyes again. Apparently the floor excited her curiosity as well.

Peter sighed and shook his head in dismay at the folly of lovers. At least Bingley knew what he was about. The moment Jane entered the room he was by her side asking for a dance.

Darcy watched Bingley make himself agreeable to the Bennet family and bit his lip in chagrin. Not for the first time in his life he wished he had the natural affability of Bingley who never seemed to be out of his element even in a roomful of strangers. Darcy took note of the stupid grin on Bingley's face as he led a beautiful young lady to the floor for the first dance. He knew he should go straight over to Elizabeth and ask for a dance but he kept hesitating unsure of what her reaction would be. It had not occurred to him that she might feel uneasy knowing that he knew all the particulars of Lydia's elopement from Brighton and was embarrassed at what his reaction must be to her sister's wretched conduct. He only knew that she had failed to tell her best friend of their meetings in Kent and not once had she glanced his way. What he really wanted was for Elizabeth to acknowledge him with a nod or possibly walk up to him and say hello. Instead she took her place on the dance floor with a boy who couldn't be more than sixteen years of age.

Peter was fascinated but soon grew weary of watching Darcy's inaction. He decided to stir things up and sauntered over to the window. "Darcy, I don't suppose you know that young lady who's dancing with that beardless boy?"

"What?"

Peter suppressed a smile, "the girl dressed in sunbeams...the one with such beautiful eyes...the one you've been staring at since she entered the room. A beautiful woman like that does not deserve to be saddled with old men and young boys. She needs a man and I could be just that man."

Darcy regarded Peter with narrowed eyes, "the lady is Miss Elizabeth Bennet whom I met in Kent. She is not to be trifled with."

"My dear sir, you wrong me. I never trifle. My intentions are always honestly felt."

"She happens to be a good friend of my sister, Georgiana, and my cousin Anne. They would not like to see her trifled with."

"Now that we've settled that Miss Elizabeth is not to be trifled with, I'll leave the field to you, Mr. Darcy." Without waiting for a reply, Peter ambled off towards his hostess feeling rather proud of himself. Darcy was obviously smitten and Elizabeth was not to be trifled with. He was still smiling at his brief encounter with Darcy when he approached Caroline Bingley. That poor woman appeared to have swallowed something disagreeable. "Delightful party Miss Bingley you must agree."

"I've heard howling dogs who made better music than this ragtag group of musicians," she snarled.

"How kind of you to say so, Miss Bingley. I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to them." He heard Louisa laughing as he moved on to Miss Lucas. "Splendid evening, Miss Lucas. It's a pleasure to see so many people enjoying themselves"

Charlotte smiled, I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to them."

Peter returned her smile. "I make no apologies for Miss Bingley but not everyone enjoys the simple pleasures of life, Miss Lucas."

"But you do, I think."

"I enjoy an occasional visit to the city but I confess my heart lies in the country."

"In Nottinghamshire, I understand. Home of Sherwood Forest. May I ask if you know Robin Hood? He's always been a hero of mine."

Peter laughed at her playfulness, "of course I knew Robin. I joined his merry men when I was about eight and spent many a long summer day in his company."

"Sweet childish days..."

"that were as long as twenty days are now," Peter finished the quote. "Indeed, Robin and I were the best of friends during those golden days of youth when everything was possible. Then I went off to school to become a gentleman and scholar and unhappily learned to put away childish things. A pity that we lose the power to imagine, don't you think, Miss Lucas?"

"Putting away childish things is one of the tragedies of life but a necessary evil I fear."

"That may be so, Miss Lucas, but I think when I return home I may ride into the forest and see if I can find my old friend. But in the meantime," he reached out his hand, "if I promise I will not step on your dainty toes, will you dance with me, Miss Lucas?"

Charlotte was so taken back that she stared at him in confusion before she took his hand and allowed him to escort her to the dance floor.

Charles Bingley was having an evening to remember. Jane Bennet had greeted him with the sweetest smile and had already danced with him and had promised to join with him for the final dance of the night. When unable to enjoy her smiles close at hand he mingled with all the guests ingratiating himself to them all with his good manners and jovial charm.

At one point he looked over at his friend Darcy who returned his look with a frown. Bingley immediately made his excuses and hurried to his friend. "Come Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

"And who would I dance with? I have not been introduced to anyone in the room except the Lucas family. Would it be too much, Bingley, if you introduced me to Miss Jane Bennet?"

Bingley reddened in embarrassment. "Of course, Darcy, as soon as this dance ends. But you must come with me and I'll introduce you to her mother, Mrs. Bennet. But why aren't you dancing with Miss Elizabeth?"

"Miss Elizabeth has not had a moment to spare for an insignificant acquaintance. She has been much too busy dancing with every man in the room to take notice of me."

Bingley laughed out loud, "oh do be serious, Darce, and come along."

Darcy refused to move, "I am serious. She has made no effort to greet me."

"But Darcy, this is the country! The rules here are different. She would be condemned as too forward if she made the first overture to a man. You would not have her acting like my sister, would you?"

"Certainly not! Er...I do beg your pardon, Bingley."

Bingley's amusement grew. Bingley had never seen Darcy overly attracted to any woman in all the years he had known him so he found his friend's behavior somewhat eccentric. He was acting like a petulant child. "Darcy, do try to understand. You are a man and she is a woman. It is up to you to stake your claim. She must be sorely puzzled by your inaction...perhaps even hurt."

"I would not have her hurt, but I refuse to grin and prance. Besides, I'm not a coal miner. I am a gentleman."

Bingley sighed, you are also a twit. I'll be glad when Richard and Miss Anne get here. Perhaps they can teach you how to deport yourself at a country dance." He glanced around the room, "where is Pete?"

"He's on the floor grinning and prancing with Miss Charlotte Lucas."

"Enough of this silliness! I insist you follow me and I will introduce you to Mrs. Bennet.

Darcy sighed, "if you insist."

Together they managed to skirt the dancers and finally approached Elizabeth's mother. "Mrs. Bennet, allow me the honor of introducing my friend, Mr. Darcy. He is very eager to make your acquaintance."

"Oh, Mr. Darcy," she trilled, "it is indeed an honor to meet with such a fine gentleman. And from Derbyshire I hear. A beautiful country I assure you."

"Have you been to Derbyshire?"

"No, not at all. Traveling is too hard on my nerves."

Darcy glanced around seeking Elizabeth and was rewarded as she hurried towards their small group. "Oh Lizzie," her mother squealed, "come meet Mr. Darcy. He's come all the way from Derbyshire just to meet with such beautiful young ladies."

Elizabeth sighed heavily, "is that true, Mr. Darcy? For if it is, we are all obliged and most grateful."

He knew he should reply with a witticism of his own but his mind went blank so he did the next best thing and simply stared at her. Beside him he could feel Bingley shaking with merriment. "Go away, Bingley," he snarled.

With a reassuring smile at Elizabeth, Bingley did as he was told.

"I hope," Mrs. Bennet cried, "that you love to dance for my daughter loves nothing better than a dance."

Darcy was unable to take his eyes off Elizabeth's face, "is that so, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Next to burying my nose in a book of poetry, nothing gives me more pleasure, Mr. Darcy."

"Oh what nonsense," snapped Mr. Bennet. "I assure you that Lizzie doesn't read too much. None of my daughters do...they have been raised most properly, Mr. Darcy. My daughter Kitty hardly reads a book in a year." Kitty giggled her agreement to this assessment of her intelligence. "And my youngest," Mrs. Bennet continued in righteous indignation, "who is lately married, "has never read a book in her life."

Darcy turned startled eyes at Mrs. Bennet, "your youngest is married?"

"Indeed she is! And at only fifteen."

Darcy could hardly credit this information. He could only imagine one scenario; that Lydia Bennet was with child and the Bennets had managed to find someone willing to marry her. "May I offer my congratulations, Mrs. Bennet."

Discomfited, Darcy glanced back at Lizzie and saw how flushed she was, "allow me to escort you to the refreshment table, Miss Elizabeth. It's quite warm in the room and I confess I'm in need of a cool drink myself." He was gratified when she laid a gentle hand on his arm. As they distanced themselves from Mrs. Bennet, Darcy spoke quietly, "are you ill, Miss Bennet?"

"Only sick at heart, Mr. Darcy, but it will pass. It always does."

"It may not be too bad, Miss Elizabeth," a lot of couples marry without love but end up happily married."

"Without love? I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy, but that has little to do with the matter at hand. According to the note she left my sister swears she cannot live without him. She was home for no more than a week when he came after her. And now she's run off with him again and we have no idea where they might be and father has washed his hands of the whole mess while my mothers crows to everyone who will listen, what a fine new son-in-law she has acquired "

"Run off with whom, Miss Bennet? Darcy asked in confusion."

Elizabeth was surprised at the question. She assumed that her cousin, Mr. Collins, had volunteered every nasty name and fact connected with the matter. Why, who do you think I'm talking about, Mr. Darcy? Mr. Wickham, of course."

Darcy felt the same way he felt when he was occasionally thrown from his least favorite horse. His head was spinning.


	18. STILL DANCING

So much had happened during the first hour of their first assembly in Hertfordshire, but the evening had hardly progressed past twenty minutes before Louisa Hurst began to feel uneasy. She was a woman who might appear to be apathetic...or dull, as Caroline was wont to describe her...and that was true enough after years of dealing with her sister, but she wasn't simple minded and she knew her husband. He usually referred to an assembly as a damned silly way to spend an evening, yet once they entered the hall he had appeared almost giddy with expectation for that night's amusement. Looking back, she realized that his demeanor had changed during their luncheon the previous afternoon. From boredom and his usual disdain for Caroline he had suddenly become alert, signaled by a lift of his right eyebrow...a sure sign that he smelled mischief in the air. She had been so concentrated on Caroline's unpleasant observations concerning the locals that she had almost missed Darcy's remark on how he had met a country girl whom he had found delightful. In any case, his remark did not signify as she could not imagine Darcy romantically inclined towards a country girl. However, when she heard Darcy speak to Charlotte Lucas and ask specifically about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, it occurred to her that anything was possible. It was difficult enough to deal with Caroline's obsession...but if a real rival appeared here in Hertfordshire, of all places, there'd be hell to pay. Caroline would suffer an abject humiliation and she would take it out on Louisa who, being so dull, made an excellent scapegoat.

Louisa sighed at the vagaries of life and focused her attention on Darcy, unable to keep her eyes off him. She watched as he planted himself at the window looking for all the world as if he would cloud up and rain on anyone who dared approach him. She suspected that he was waiting for the appearance of a certain young lady. What was so fascinating was that his usual noncommittal demeanor seemed to have altered into something approaching anticipation. When Peter addressed him he showed a mild annoyance which again was unlike Darcy for she knew that Darcy actually liked the young man.

Things didn't improve. Instead of asking Caroline to dance, Peter Postlewaite had made light of Caroline's remark about the howling dog band, then passed her by and asked Charlotte Lucas for the next dance.

Caroline managed to ignore this slight with a shrug of indifference. She turned to Louisa, "Poor Darcy," Caroline whispered with a smirk," how he must be suffering to be thrown into a room of nobodies. I do wish he would hurry and ask me to dance. I know if he dances with a real lady he'll be better able to endure this country amusement."

Louisa regarded her sister in disbelief. Talk about dense. Caroline prided herself on her acumen yet here she stood waiting patiently for Darcy to ask her to dance seemingly unaware that he was waiting for another woman to appear. There were so many things she wanted to say to Caroline...anything that would awaken her to the truth...but an assembly hall was not the place so she offered no reply as Darcy continued to stare down the room at the entrance with undisguised impatience. Her brother seemed to find the entrance of great interest also. He had dropped the name of Miss Jane Bennet several dozen times in the past two weeks so Louisa assumed that she was the lady whom Charles was waiting for. When she saw Darcy suddenly stand straight and take a step forward, Louisa turned and saw the entrance of a young woman who seemed to think the floor more interesting than the guests in the hall. At first the shy young lady in question did not seem to have a prepossessing appearance until she raised luminous eyes and stared down the hall at Darcy who was now examining the floor and missed the look. Fortunately, Caroline missed the look too as she was watching their brother move quickly to the blond goddess who's face lit up as Charles approached her.

Louisa was so engrossed in the many scenes unfolding that she hadn't noticed her husband sidling up next to her, "the Bennets of Longbourn, I believe," he said quietly.

"Well, I've never denied that Charles has good taste. She's lovely. And I suppose the other one is the delightful woman whom Darcy met in Kent."

Hurst continued to speak in a soft tone, "And all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes."

"If you must quote Byron, do so in our bedroom where it would be better appreciated," she whispered back, and not here where my sister can hear you. And you won't be so glib when Caroline starts smashing all the glass in the house." She rewarded him with a wry smile, "including your brandy bottles."

Hurst chuckled lightly, "a fate worse than death. But tell me, my dear wife, is he in love?"

"I've never seen Darcy in love...never even suspected that he was capable of it...but I must admit that he does look vulnerable...and displeased."

"A combination hard to beat. It reminds me of when I first laid eyes on you, my sweet. And Charles looks his usual smitten self. What are the odds that both Charles and Darcy would fall for a pair of country sisters.?"

"I'll leave the gambling to you, husband. I'm more concerned with Caroline's reaction if and when Darcy approaches Miss Bennet. I'd feel so much better if he asked Caroline to dance."

"And why would he settle for brass when there is gold before him?"

"Oh do be quiet, Humphrey," she responded, a soft smile playing on her lips, "and have a care. I would not have her making a scene."

Louisa thought the situation could not get worse, but it did. When Darcy followed Bingley towards the end of the room, he passed by Caroline without a nod, his dark eyes fixed steadily on Elizabeth. Caroline couldn't contain herself, "who is that loud mouthed woman who seems to know the income of every man in the room?"

Hurst was delighted to oblige Caroline with the information. "I believe," he responded with undisguised glee, "that she is the matriarch of the Bennets of Longbourn. Charming, don't you think? Of course she is a bit too old to suit my taste, but I can't say that about her two eldest daughters. Two beauties, both of them, don't you think?"

The look she turned on Hurst was corrosive. Caroline's mood had begun it's downward spiral. She had been looking forward to dancing with Darcy, yet he still had not approached her. Peter Postlewaite had not asked her to dance which would have given her an opportunity to make Darcy jealous. Instead he had chosen a woman who had absolutely nothing to recommend her. Charles was now chasing after a blond country girl and the final straw was the way Darcy had passed by her without a nod, to allow himself to be introduced to a chubby middle-aged woman who was over-dressed and loud. "I told Louisa that she should never have married you. You're nothing but a buffoon!"

Louisa took her husband's hand, "I believe you asked me to dance? I think I'm ready to do just that."

"And leave your sister to herself?"

Louisa regarded the sour and sullen expression on her sister's face, "Who else can stand her company?"

Across the room from Caroline, Darcy and Elizabeth stood observing the dancers looking for all the world like two indifferent acquaintances making small talk. In fact, she was quietly relating all the information concerning her sister from the time she ran off from Brighton up to the night she left Longbourn and escaped into the night. Later, she would reflect on why she felt no embarrassment as she recited the facts as she knew them, but for now it was enough to enjoy the relief she felt in unburdening her heart. His gentle voice as he probed for all the particulars gave her a kind of release that she had been denied by her own family members. Jane thought all would be well, Kitty envied Lydia's adventure, Mrs. Bennet now had two son's in law...only three to go...and Mr. Bennet had washed his hands of the entire affair. By the time she reached the part she had played with the dreadful words she'd leveled at her sister her words slowed and she finally looked at Darcy with a steady gaze. "I find it difficult to forgive myself. I will regret my words for as long as I live."

As they quietly spoke Darcy's eyes never stopped moving over the crowd looking for signs that they were drawing more attention than appropriate, but there was nothing to see except what appeared to be an argument between the Hursts and Caroline...nothing unusual in that. Nevertheless, he decided that they could no longer contain the seriousness of their converse. "Miss Bennet, this is neither the time nor the place to speak further on this subject. But I hope I can assuage your guilt in the coming days. I have much to tell you about George Wickham. But for now, do allow me to introduce you to our Netherfield hostess, Caroline Bingley."

Elizabeth tilted her head and regarded him with a mocking grin, "if you are trying to lighten my mood with this change of subject, you have not succeeded. I have heard much about the formidable Miss Bingley. I think I should be very afraid."

Relief washed over him for there she was, the pert and sassy young woman who had so entranced him at Rosing's Park. There had been so many dark moments after he left Kent when he feared that Elizabeth was merely a creation of his own desires, that she didn't really exist. "She is not nearly so frightening when out in public, so you have nothing to fear."

"A smile abroad is often a scowl at home?"

"Why, Miss Bennet, is that Tennyson?"

Elizabeth raised her chin in mock hauteur, "I said I don't care for poetry. I didn't say I didn't read it upon occasion."

"I stand corrected, Miss Bennet. I see that I must listen to you more carefully."

"See that you do, Mr. Darcy. It's easier to win an argument that way."

"And do you enjoy a good argument?"

She grinned, "more than I do poetry."

So you like to win?"

"Not always. I find that if you lose an argument fairly, you both end up winners."

He couldn't help himself. He leaned down and whispered softly, "I promise that I will never let any harm come to you."

Elizabeth looked deep into those dark brown eyes but could find no reply without sounding flirtatious, so took his offered arm and allowed him to lead her in the direction of Caroline Bingley.

From across the room Caroline had been watching Darcy and Elizabeth as unobtrusively as she could manage what with having to put her brother-in-law in his place, sneering at Peter Postlewaite for choosing to dance with the plainest woman in the room while keeping an eye on her brother who as usual was making a fool of himself over an upstart blond. Once Louisa and her offensive husband took to the dance floor she was able to more fully concentrate on Darcy. At first she saw nothing to alarm her. The girl was dressed in a simple muslin and was not particularly beautiful though Caroline had to admit that Miss Bennet was possessed of a pair of dark, lively eyes. A moment later he leaned down towards Miss Bennet and offered her the softest of smiles and Caroline felt her bile rise. She had been waiting for years to see such a smile aimed at herself. For the first time in her life she felt panic as she watched them stroll nonchalantly towards the end of the room knowing that they were heading in her direction. When they stopped for a moment to chat with Peter Postlewaite and Charlotte, she made up her mind to return to Netherfield unable to bear the humiliation of being introduced to a possible rival for Darcy's affection; that Peter or Hurst would be witness to such a meeting was not to be borne. Now in full panic mode she moved down the side of the room trying to catch the eye of her sister. This proved to be a mistake for she had blindly entered Mrs. Bennet's territory who was delighted to welcome her to their community. "I love your dress," Mrs. Bennet cried, "orange is now my favorite color. And you must tell me where you buy your plumes!" Caroline was aghast to be approached without an introduction and glared her disapproval which usually had the effect of silencing her victim but Mrs. Bennet was obviously too dense to notice anything but her own desire to ingratiate herself to the mistress of Netherfield park. "Isn't it wonderful how your brother and my Jane are getting along together? It's a match made in heaven."

Caroline recoiled in horror and turned on her heel. She noticed that Darcy and Elizabeth were no longer walking towards her but were still chatting with Peter and Charlotte. She spotted the Hursts nearing her as they came down the line, "take me home," she hissed. "Take me home this minute!" She turned and fled out the door and waited on the landing for the Hursts who after a brief word with Bingley followed her.

When Caroline accosted them on the dance floor and demanded that they take her back to Netherfield, Hurst's inclination was to tell her walk home but of course he couldn't do that, but his anger and frustration, long banked, had begun to simmer. Heedless of the feelings of others, Caroline always managed to destroy everyone's fun. When they were finally on their way back to Netherfield Caroline uttered a guttural scream of rage which terrified Louisa and brought a tight smile from Hurst. He was naturally an empathetic man but Caroline had spread her meanness just too far. Her treatment of Louisa was appalling. He cared not a whit at the unkind words she leveled at him but when it came to the insults she threw at his wife he felt helpless and unmanned. He loved his wife dearly and felt that inherent need to protect her yet Louisa would not permit him to do so. She couldn't bear scenes and Caroline's anger frightened her so he was relegated to making small ironic digs at his sister-in-law when what he really wanted was to throttle her. "Whatever ails you, Sister? he inquired gently, allowing her to hear the irony. There was no response from Caroline; instead she rummaged in her reticule for her flask and took several long swallows of brandy. He really wanted to continue toying with her but decided he would be better off letting her drink herself into a stupor; and too, a soft hand on his arm made him desist. Instead, he leaned close to his wife, "It shouldn't take long for her to pass out. Now that she's curtailed our evening, shall we have our own party tonight?"

"Whose turn is it?"

"Mine, but I'll cede to you if you can manage to tuck her in before midnight."

"I'll do my best." Louisa tightened her grip on his arm, "And bring the bottle. I suspect I'll need it."

Darcy saw Caroline speaking to Mrs. Bennet, then accosting the Hursts on the dance floor but he could not imagine what had prompted them to leave the hall in such a hurried fashion though he suspected that Caroline's jealousy had something to do with it, but he couldn't spare more than a moment on Caroline Bingley. Elizabeth had been taken away from him by a man old enough to be her grandfather and seemed perfectly happy to oblige him with a dance. Darcy found himself pacing with annoyance though he allowed himself an inward smile remembering Bingley's description of him at a dance much like a horse eager to bolt from the barn. His consolation was that she had promised him the last dance and that would have to do for the moment, but only for the moment. He stopped his pacing momentarily to stare out the window and was confronted by his own reflection. What he saw, he didn't like. He was glowering at his own image. With effort, he softened his face before turning back to the room and saw Elizabeth coming down the line with the sweetest smile directed straight at him. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach lurched. He returned her smile but what he was really thinking was if he should consult Bingley or Richard on how one survived being in love.

Darcy hated being the center of attention but there was no way he could avoid it if he wanted to spend the last half-hour with Elizabeth so he stiffened his resolve and led Elizabeth to the floor when the band signaled the last dance. If he thought it might go unnoticed he was sadly mistaken. The whispers began immediately and reached a crescendo when Bingley and Jane followed by Peter and Charlotte joined him.

Mrs. Bennet nearly swooned when Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy took her daughters out on the floor. Fortunately her friend Lady Lucas kept her from slipping to the floor which was a miracle in itself for she too was in shock as she watched her plain daughter being led to the floor a second time by the handsome stranger from Nottinghamshire. It was left to Sir Lucas to clap in time to the music as he muttered, "capital, capital!"

Darcy and Elizabeth never took their eyes off each other though neither said not a word to each other as they danced the next half-hour of the assembly, but simply enjoyed being in the presence of each other. Mrs. Bennet was keenly disappointed not to see her least favorite daughter at least making an attempt to speak to the wealthy man from Derbyshire. All she could see was a tall handsome man looking austere and above his company. Instead of using her arts and allurements to capture his heart, her obstinate daughter seemed to find great amusement in his steadfast silence. Mrs. Bennet felt a tiny stab of regret that her youngest daughter had run off to marry Lieutenant Wickham when there was a much larger fish to catch, but she would have to make do. She would have a long talk with Elizabeth in the morning and teach her how to capture the heart of a man...even as difficult a man as the proud Mr. Darcy appeared to be. She sighed. A mother's work was never done.

Peter and Charlotte were also enjoying the dance for other reasons. They were finding vast amusement in the silence of Darcy and Elizabeth compared to the non-stop chatter of Bingley and Jane. "For the life of me," Peter said, "I've never known such good friends who have such different temperaments. Bingley's such a jolly soul and Darcy almost seems dour."

"And are their looks deceiving?"

"Only in Darcy's case. He is nothing like he seems. He's actually warm and good-humored once you've gained his trust. And what of Miss Elizabeth and Miss Jane? Are they similar in temperament?"

Charlotte laughed, "not at all. Jane doesn't believe that evil exists in the world...only errors in judgment."

Peter laughed hardily, "sounds like Bingley. And Miss Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth knows that evil exists so she's careful about who she trusts."

"Sounds like both pairs are equally matched."

"You don't believe the old adage that opposites attract?"

"If I did, Darcy would have married Miss Bingley years ago."

"And that would have been a bad thing?"

"Marriage without love or passion would be exhausting."

Charlotte laughed at his choice of words, "don't you mean it would be dull, miserable and long?"

Peter chose not to reply to the question, but asked when the next assembly would take place and elicited a promise that she would save the first dance for him.

At Netherfield Louisa accompanied her sister to her room knowing Caroline's need to vent; she just hoped it wouldn't take too long. She didn't like keeping her husband waiting especially when a massage awaited her. If she hadn't been so concentrated on the pleasure which lay before her she might have been more alert. She never saw Caroline pick up the delicate perfume bottle and smash it into the mirror, nor did she feel the two tiny splinters of glass strike her cheek. Wearily, Louisa dropped into a chair and regarded her sister with sorrow. Caroline was now sitting on the side of her bed, weeping and pummeling her knees with clenched fists. "It's a good thing Darcy can't see you having one of your temper tantrums," Louisa drawled. "He might not think of you as the lady you pretend to be."

"Get me a drink!"

Louisa obeyed and poured herself one before resuming her seat. "Be reasonable, Carrie, you've had seven years trying to win Darcy. You never had a chance and I'm weary of watching you try. So is my husband."

Louisa's reference to Hurst brought a sneer from Caroline, "your husband!"

"Yes, my husband! The man whose hospitality you and Charles enjoyed before Charles bought his townhouse. The man who is generous and loving to me. The man who puts up with your tirades and insults."

"Why shouldn't he? He has nothing better to do."

"How dare you speak of him that way? When I think of all the years you've terrorized our family I am thoroughly ashamed of myself . You constantly belittle my husband who's a good man despite what you may think. You know that I love him yet you continually disparage him in front of me not caring that when you hurt him, you hurt me."

"He's a buffoon and so is Charles! Did you see the way our dear brother was fawning over that daughter of a loud-mouthed shrew? Well, I'll put a stop to that!"

"You will do no such thing! I really don't know how serious he is about Jane Bennet but I will not brook any interference from you. If she is his choice, he will have her."

Caroline regarded Louisa with an air of affected incredulity, "and how would you do that, Sister?" She stood and refilled her glass.

Louisa looked long and hard at her sister, "oh, Carrie, I wish we could roll back time and start all over. I've tried to protect you since you were a little girl when you'd came home crying because you had skinned your knee or the boys had called you names. For years I've been laboring under the illusion that I was to blame for the way you turned out when it was really our mother filling your mind with delusions of grandeur. I just carried on where she left off when she died."

"Leave her out of it! You were always jealous of me because I was someone special."

"You were someone special, alright, but I wouldn't brag about it."

"Meaning what?"

"You and Charles were both young, but I wasn't. I remember the angry words and tears...the shouts of recriminations. Then one day father came back and loaded the cart with our meager belongings and took us to Ellesmere. Did you never wonder why the accident that killed her took place back at that dreadful little village and not in Ellesmere?"

"She was visiting friends."

"She had no friends. And neither did we."

"What on earth are you talking about? You're speaking in riddles!"

Louisa hesitated, feeling exhaustion setting in. "Just stay out of Charles's way, Carrie. Let him find happiness. He's a good man and deserves it." She turned and headed for the door, anxious to be in her husband's company.

Caroline followed and grabbed her shoulders spinning her around, "I will not have my brother unite himself with a country girl. He will marry a girl from the Ton!"

Louisa pushed her sister so hard that Caroline stumbled and fell. "Go to bed and sober up. And stay out of Charles's way. And in the morning, take a look in the mirror. A long look." She left the room closing the door quietly behind her and waited for a moment half-expecting to hear a scream of frustration. But all was silent.

When Louisa finally entered her own bedroom she was carrying the scars of seeing Caroline to bed. Two drops of blood marked where the shards of a crystal flask had found their mark and she reeked of perfume.

Hurst's face tightened in fury, "I'm going to have that woman put away!"

"You'll do no such thing. It was an accident. And where's my brandy?"

"What kind of an accident leaves blood on your face?"

Louisa shrugged and went to her dressing room to remove her dress and wash the stink of perfume from her body. When she returned to the bedroom she was wearing only a camisole and silk stockings held up by blue garters.

He walked over to the hearth and reached down for the bottle and a small vial of warm scented oil. "Take your clothes off," he said, pouring her a liberal amount of the warm brandy. "And how did you leave your sister?"

"With a reminder to look in the mirror tomorrow morning."

Hurst chuckled, "that's all she needs. She spends at least two hours a day staring at her reflection as it is."

"True. But she only sees what she wants to see." She sat down on the bed and emptied the glass, then began to roll down her garters at a leisurely pace never taking her eyes off her husband. When her shapely legs were bare she stood and allowed him to remove her camisole before stretching out on the bed. Hurst then removed his own robe and straddled her. He slid his left hand beneath her throat cradling her gently, then his right hand began to softly rub the warm scented oil into the back of her neck up into her hairline then back down again. His hand moved slowly and sensually feeling her begin to relax. More oil and now both hands moved down kneading the muscles of her back working his magic. She sighed as he moved to her thighs massaging and squeezing before descending to her knees and calves and finally to her feet and toes. More oil and he moved back up her body slowly, kissing and nipping at her, enjoying the delicious feel of her. He turned her over gently and gave himself a few moments to take in the beauty of her body before she smiled at him. "Caroline asks me all the time what I see in you."

"And what do you say?" Hurst asked his wife.

"I smile mysteriously and say 'you'd be surprised'. Now get me another drink and I may allow you to pleasure me." When he stood up she moved her eyes slowly down the length of his body stopping midway for a moment, "my impatient lover."

"Minx!"

They both laughed loudly and he poured them another drink but not for a minute had he forgotten the tiny cuts on his wife's face nor the cause of them. And despite what Caroline thought of him, Hurst was not a stupid man. His wife had just told him something and he suspected it was something important but now was not the time to think on it. His wife wanted pleasuring and he had better get on with his duty while he still could.

In the hall Darcy and Peter were startled by the loud laughter emanating from the Hurst room. Darcy raised an eyebrow in inquiry and Bingley smiled, "sounds like they're enjoying marital bliss."

Darcy was stunned and at a loss for words. Peter, ever curious, "does their marital bliss always provoke so much laughter?"

"I don't take notes," Bingley replied, smothering a laugh, "but I will say that they are fond of each other."

In his room Darcy threw off his jacket, vest and cravat and poured himself a liberal amount of brandy before stalking to the large window that faced the direction of Longbourn trying not to think of the Hursts and their marital bliss. He had half a mind to bang on their door and admonish them to stop having so much fun, but he could not long dwell on the blissful Hursts when his own desire for bliss kept intruding. Biding good night to Elizabeth had been agony. It had seemed like an eternity had passed since Rosing's Park and his last sight of her. During the intervening weeks she had been constantly on his mind invading his every waking moment and worse still, insinuating herself into his dreams at night. To see her again after all the time that had passed was a mixture of pain and ecstasy..something like bliss...but not quite as satisfying. For the first time in his life he was at a loss as to what to do next.

He leaned his forehead against the cool glass feeling a deep aching throb begin in his loins and gritted his teeth commanding his body to behave. When he heard a gentle knock at the door his body refused to obey instantly and he took a painful breath before sighing. He called out without turning, "come in, Bingley."

"Am I disturbing you, Darcy? I couldn't sleep."

Darcy rolled his eyes and still without turning, pointed to the small bar. Help yourself." By the time Peter rapped at the door and was admitted, Darcy was resigned to his fate and invited his old and new friend to sit down and make themselves comfortable which they did. They were both restless after spending three hours in the company of such lovely ladies and they knew that Darcy didn't have anything else to do.


	19. FAMILIES

The principles that governed a young woman's life in England were the rules of propriety. Certain behavior was considered unacceptable if one wished to be regarded as a lady. This standard was considered to be inviolate though some of the rules seemed absurd to Elizabeth. She hated any rule that deprived her of innocent pleasure and for the life of her she could not imagine what harm could come from the touch of a man's hand. When the assembly came to an end and Darcy helped her into the carriage she wanted to feel the touch of his warm flesh so much she ached. She had instead to settle for the warmth of his dark eyes. This too made her feel sick as she knew she wanted him to take her home. Not to Longbourn, and cetainly not to Netherfield where Caroline Bingley held court. No. She wanted to go to Pemberley and lock herself away with him forever. She was ashamed to think how she had condemned Lydia. Was this how Lydia had felt about Wickham? She shuddered to think so. As the carriage began to move, she couldn't take her eyes off him as he raised his hand to bid her good night. Then her mother began to speak in her high-pitched screech and the magical moment dissolved into despair.

Mrs. Bennet's joy could not be voiced with more animation nor in louder tones. She always knew that Jane could not be so beautiful without a good reason and now she knew that reason was to marry the sweet-natured and very rich Mr. Bingley. Lydia and Wickham were all forgotten and now Jane had taken Lydia's place as the favorite child. And was not Mr. Bingley's sister the finest lady anyone could see? Orange had to be all the rage in London...she must write to her sister Gardiner and have her send her new patterns and plumes...lots of plumes.

Then she turned her attention to Elizabeth and her exaltation turned venomous. Elizabeth was an ungrateful daughter...had she not refused Mr. Collins...who did she think she was? And now with the richest man in Derbyshire showing interest in her, what did she do? She stared at him and refused to utter one word of encouragement which might secure the happiness of the entire family. By the time her mother ran out of words Elizabeth felt her misery complete. But the evening's ordeal was not yet over.

At Longbourn Elizabeth had to endure Jane's company for a full half- hour before her sister ran out of words to describe what a lovely evening it had been. With a determined smile on her face she listened to Jane rhapsodizing on Charles Bingley's considerable merits; how clever, sweet, intelligent, what a wonderful dancer and how happy he was to be so readily accepted in Hertfordshire. Elizabeth stifled several yawns which Jane was perfectly oblivious of, so caught up in her happiness was she. Feeling rather churlish about her lack of enthusiasm, Elizabeth went on automatic and did her best to smile and nod at the appropriate places but fervently hoped that Jane would eventually tire of enumerating all the attributes of her lover. The rest of the house had grown silent before Jane finally wore down and bid her sister sweet dreams and retired to her own room.

Elizabeth dropped down on the edge of the bed and sat quietly, not yet ready to attempt sleep, wondering what Darcy was doing at that very moment. She wanted to believe that he was thinking about her but common sense said he was probably fast asleep. She was still a country girl with little to recommend her except for a pert and sassy disposition for which her mother had berated her on the way back from the assembly. Her confidence had been completely undermined by the time she reached her room. She thought that the evening had been wonderful but now she wasn't sure. What on earth had prompted her to be so open with a man she hardly even knew? What must he think of her? Why hadn't her mother kept her thoughts to herself? Why couldn't her mother allow her to enjoy the memories of that night? What if he never wanted to see her again? Was she in the process go going mad? It was a distinct possibility.

At length, she stood and absently began to divest herself of her dress and petticoat, throwing them on a nearby chair. After a moment's consideration she did what would convince Mrs. Bennet that her least favorite daughter was the spawn of the devil. She approached the full-length mirror, then slid the straps of her camisole off her shoulders letting it fall to the floor. She kicked the garment away and stood regarding her naked body in the dim light. What she saw did not please her. She had seen enough paintings and statuaries to understand what a man found to be the ideal of the female body. Rubenesque, she was not. She carried no extra weight on her despite knowing that plumpness was a sign of being rich and healthy. She saw a young woman with full breasts and hips with a narrow waist and flat stomach...everything a man would find undesirable in a womanly figure. Pleasingly plump, she was not, and her heart sank even further. Her mother had been haranguing her for years to eat more so she could develop a body which would be sexually pleasing to a man. Even her legs did not conform to beauty's criterion...much too thin and well defined no doubt due to her love of the outdoors and her long walks. She had once heard her mother and aunt Phillips snickering about the kind of legs a man wanted gripping him. Elizabeth wasn't sure what that meant but feared that her legs were all wrong as well as the rest of her body. The only thing she could find remotely attractive about herself were her eyes. She had been blessed with large double-lashed eyes that could flash in annoyance or good humor but it was doubtful that her eyes would be of any use in the marriage bed. With a heavy heart she put her nightgown on and went to bed where she lay until the sun began to rise before she found comfort in sleep.

In the morning Elizabeth was further disheartened when she looked in the mirror and saw the dark shadows under her eyes. Her only redeeming feature now reminded her of two large pools of mud and just as attractive. Naturally, her mother commented on her appearance the moment she entered the breakfast room. Silence was preferable to hanging for matricide so Elizabeth ignored her and contented herself with a slice of hot bread slathered with some strawberry preserves which she washed down with a large cup of coffee. From boredom she had been taking notes on the eating habits of her family and neighbors for years and had determined that an excess of butter, creams and gravies seemed to go hand in hand with obesity so she indulged herself with rich foods only on occasion. Probably why she didn't conform with the accepted standards of beauty not that it mattered anymore. She had determined that she would no longer think of Mr. Darcy except as a common and indifferent acquaintance, one way to retain her sanity.

Shortly after Mr. Bennet retired to his study Charlotte Lucas arrived much to Elizabeth's delight. That Charlotte and the Misses Bennet should meet after an assembly was absolutely necessary to hear and communicate.

"You began and ended the evening very well, Charlotte" Mrs. Bennet managed with civility. "Though I must admit I thought it rather unseemly the way you threw yourself at a much younger man."

"Mother!" Elizabeth cried.

Charlotte glanced at Elizabeth, "she's right, Lizzie. I'm at least a year older then Mr. Postlewaite. He would be much better suited for Kitty."

"There, you see Lizzie?" Mrs. Bennet cried in triumph, "Charlotte understands perfectly. "She would be better off with a much older man and I dare say there are plenty of them around."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her mother's stupidity and Kitty giggled much like an hysterical goose. "Wonderful idea," Elizabeth drawled, "Kitty could giggle him to death." As usual, irony was lost on her mother. How on earth had she been born to such a family? The more she thought of it, the more she knew that she would be mortified to have Darcy witness such ignorance. Her mother and sister had not a modicum of sense between the two of them.

When Jane suggested that they go out into the garden Elizabeth and Charlotte rose with alacrity, however, Mrs. Bennet had a few words for her recalcitrant daughter. "Lizzie, stay a while. I would speak to you on a matter of great importance."

Once they were alone, Elizabeth preempted Mrs. Bennet's further instructions on how to use her arts and allurements. "Mother, I will not listen to another word on how I should comport myself with a man. You're the last person on earth I would take advice from. I've not forgotten how you insisted that I marry Mr. Collins though you knew how repulsive I found him. That you would sentence me to a life of misery with a man I despised was not good advice." Elizabeth took a ragged breath, "And last night after I pleaded with you not to mention Lydia's name, almost the first thing you told Mr. Darcy, was that your fifteen year old daughter had married Mr. Wickham. Did you know that Wickham grew up on the Darcy estate? That he was the son of Mr. Darcy's steward? The master of Pemberley will never connect himself to a family who's daughter ran off with his servant's son, so you will do well not to spread one of your unfounded rumors. You will only make yourself look ridiculous. And as far as your new friend Miss Bingley is concerned, I have it on good authority that she is a first rate snob. I seriously doubt she will be pleased with any rumors connecting her brother with this family."

Mrs. Bennet had turned white and for the first time in Elizabeth's memory did not mention her nerves or call for her smelling salts. "How dare you speak to me like that? I've always done my best for you girls"

"Do you still believe you did your best when you encouraged Lydia to run after every man in long pants?"

"She's married isn't she? I think Lydia did very well for herself."

"Then you are a fool, Mother. I don't believe for a minute that Lydia is married. Mr. Wickham is nearly twice Lydia's age and he is still a lowly lieutenant...that smacks of indolence. And surely you haven't forgotten that he left debts to half the tradesmen in Meryton. Do you still say you did your best for your girls? I think not!"

Mrs. Bennet waved off Elizabeth's words dismissively, "you think you know it all! Just because you always have your nose in a book doesn't make you an expert on everything. Wait till you have five girls to marry off...that is if any man will connect himself with you."

Elizabeth regarded her mother with deep sadness, "I know I'm your least favorite daughter. How could I not? You never tire of telling anyone who will listen just how selfish and thoughtless I am. I'm sorry that I've been such a disappointment to you. But disappointment works both ways, mother." She turned and ran up to her room feeling the tears coursing down her face. She hadn't said anything she hadn't been thinking but hearing the words out loud made her acknowledge the truth. Darcy would never consider her as a wife and she had to face it.

At Netherfield Darcy was still half awake having a cup of coffee at the small table set near his bedroom window when he saw a lone rider approaching the park . He recognized the carriage of the man on his mount before he recognized the man. Rumor had it that Richard had been born in the saddle as he seemed to be part of the animal when he rode whether into war or on a pleasant jaunt. Darcy had expected him to arrive later that afternoon with Lady Catherine, Anne and Georgiana. What he was doing in Hertfordshire and at such an early hour was a puzzle but he felt no alarm; Richard was a restless soul. It was just like him to take off at dawn and ride twenty-five miles.

Darcy gave orders for Richard to be directed to his room along with another pot of coffee and some sweet rolls, then waited patiently for his cousin to appear. When Richard finally made his entrance, Darcy relaxed immediately. Richard was grinning broadly and obviously in good spirits. "Coffee and sweet rolls! Well done, Cousin. Now for a soft cushion for my aching bottom." He grabbed a pillow from Darcy's bed and threw it on his chair before gingerly lowering himself. "Ah, that's better," he sighed. "I've got a boil the size of an egg where I never allow the sun to shine if I can help it."

"Ill have Miss Bingley lance it for you. I'm sure she'd be happy to accommodate a dear cousin of mine. So, where are the ladies?"

"Still another day doing girlie things. I swear, Darcy, I love them to death but when they start spending money their excitement can be absolutely terrifying to a poor soldier. Anne and Georgie can't possibly wear all the frocks they've ordered, and my mother and Lady Catherine have bought enough furniture to fill a palace."

"How is Lady Catherine? Still behaving herself?"

Richard laughed lightly, "I don't recognize the dragon. She and my mother are as thick as thieves, giggling together like a couple of schoolgirls. What's more remarkable is that our aunt seems almost pretty at times. Is it possible that happiness can alter the face of a plain woman?"

"According to Voltaire, Beauty pleases the eye but sweetness of disposition charms the soul."

"Speaking of a sweet disposition, how is our dear hostess? Has she charmed your soul?"

Darcy couldn't contain a sigh, "I honestly don't know what to make of her.. She seems to be determined to hate everything and everyone. She seemed happy enough when we left for the assembly last night, but within twenty minutes her mood had soured."

"Did you dance with her?"

"Richard, I have tried everything within the rules of propriety to show her that she is not the woman for me. Hurst has warned me that if I even say hello, her expectations rise. I simply won't dance with her again."

"Fair enough. Did Miss Elizabeth attend?"

Darcy nodded, "and before you ask, of course I danced with her."

"And is that when Caroline's mood soured?"

"No. I was on the way to introducing Miss Elizabeth when Caroline suddenly left the assembly dragging the Hursts with her. She was obviously in high dudgeon...but that's her usual state so I gave it little notice."

"Enough of Caroline. Tell me about Miss Elizabeth Bennet. How is she? If I remember correctly, that lady possesses both beauty and sweetness of disposition"

"She's quite well. She had an astounding story to tell...one I'm sure you will find of interest."

"A story? Wonderful! I love a good story."

"It concerns George Wickham who came in the middle of the night and stole Miss Lydia Bennet away from her family."

Richard sat up straight, "huh?" The sudden movement brought a wince of pain from him and he groaned.

"Succinct as always, Cousin, but to be fair, that is precisely what I thought when Miss Elizabeth related this fascinating tale."

"Darcy, what the hell are you taking about?"

"About a week ago, Miss Lydia Bennet left her home at Longbourn sometime after dark, leaving behind a note saying that George Wickham had come for her and they were not to be followed as they planned to be married and this time they would not be found."

To Darcy's relief, Richard neither looked shocked nor puzzled, but threw his head back and laughed hardily. "That Miss Lydia," he managed between guffaws, "is a piece of work. No wonder Wickham found her interesting for five minutes. Trust me, Cousin, Wickham is long dead and no doubt smoldering in a pauper's grave as we speak."

Darcy winced, "that's a pretty picture you've painted, but why would she write such a letter to her family?"

"Darcy, think on it. We are the only two who are privy to the real facts. I hate to assail the character of a gentleman's daughter...particularly a sister of the lovely Miss Elizabeth...but after a week in the company of Wickham I'm sure she found Hertfordshire much too tame. She probably ran off to find Wickham or to make her way in the world...no doubt in a brothel."

"Richard!"

"Sorry, old man, but in case you've forgotten, I'm the one who took the lady in question kicking and screaming from that roach filled hovel. She was half naked and painted like a harlot. She took to that life like a duck to water. She showed absolutely no remorse for the pain she had caused to her family. There was not a doubt in my mind that she was lost forever." Richard poured another cup of coffee, "so, I know that disguise is your abhorrence, but I trust that you'll use some circumspection when you next speak to Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy nodded. "I've already come up with a story."

"Good! Now that's clear, I would like to talk about my favorite subject. Me!"

Despite himself, Darcy couldn't help laughing. "With such an unfathomable subject, that could take hours. Could you cut to the last week?"

"Remember I told you that I'd turned in my resignation? Well, I did. But that wasn't the entire story. My general refused to submit it to London. He decided to hold it for three months in case I changed my mind."

"And have you?"

Richard hesitated for a moment and reached for another sweet roll. "We did," he said.

"You and the General?"

Richard had the grace to blush, "Anne and I."

Darcy sat stunned, "Anne and you?"

Richard rolled his eye, "yes, Cousin. Anne and I. I decided that as my wife, Anne should have a say in our future."

"Good grief!"

"If that's your way of congratulating me, I thank you."

For a moment Darcy was incapable of speech. "You're to marry Anne? How did this come about?"

Richard shrugged, "she was playing the pianoforte."

Darcy waited for Richard to continue. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to, Darcy spoke impatiently, "surely you don't propose to every woman who plays the pianoforte."

"Certainly not," Richard replied, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "I can't explain it myself. I was looking at her and I thought that if I loved her...and I do...there was not much sense in waiting any longer. And with the general giving me time, I thought why not ask her? So I did."

"So, she was playing the pianoforte and you grabbed her and said, 'what say we get married kiddo?'"

"Certainly not! Where did you get such an idea?"

"From your own mouth, Cousin."

"Oh. Well, I suppose that wasn't one of my better ideas. No, I simply sat down with her and one thing led to another. She seemed pleased with my offer and that was that."

"Sounds very romantic."

Richard grinned, "as a matter of fact, it was."

"And are you happy, Richard?"

"I think I am. One minute I wonder what on earth I've done and the next minute I think how wonderful it will be to have someone to help me through life. That's all marriage is, after all. And I confess that I'm looking forward to it."

"And when will this ceremony take place?"

"In a few weeks, I suppose."

"But...but, what about the courtship? That will take at least six months."

Richard exploded with glee, "why you damned fool. According to Anne, we've been courting for ten years. She says that's time enough. We will be wed before autumn."

When Darcy and Richard made their way into the breakfast room they found Bingley and Peter enjoying a hardy repast. Richard was introduced to Peter and Darcy was amused to watch the two men taking the measure of each other before shaking hands and exchanging civilities. "Delighted, etc.," Richard said.

"Etc. to you too, Colonel Fitzwilliams" Peter returned.

Richard obviously liked what he saw and settled down for his own hardy repast. "So, what's on the menu today?"

Bingley answered, "I thought we might visit Longbourn. It's such a beautiful day, perhaps we can all take a walk in the countryside."

"Wonderful idea," Richard responded. "I'm sure that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet will be delighted to show us Hertfordshire."

Peter laughed out loud but Bingley ignored both of them, "I thought we could ride into Meryton, then walk to Longbourn."

"Riding is out of the question for me. I've got a thing on my thing. I'd be better off soaking in a hot tub."

"A thing on your thing?"

"And where," asked Peter, "is the thing, Colonel Fitzwilliam? I trust it isn't catching?"

Bingley set down his coffee cup, "Catching?"

Darcy shook his head at the clueless expression on Bingley's face, "Not where you think, Mr. Postlewaite, but apparently just as painful. For the past half-hour he's been applying hot compresses and using words that would make a sailor blush."

"Perhaps it should be lanced," Peter suggested.

"Darcy suggested that, but he knows very well that Miss Caroline doesn't like me."

Peter's eyes widened at the implication but didn't dare laugh out loud with Miss Bingley's brother sitting next to him.

"Poor Caroline," mumbled Bingley, "she never has any fun." The table erupted with unrestrained laughter while Bingley continued to shovel food into his mouth.

Once they had settled down Darcy spoke directly to Bingley, "Charles, I have news to import to you concerning my cousin that will amaze and astound you." He was hard-pressed not to laugh out loud as he watched Bingley's eyes go wide. "Are you up to this?" Darcy spared a quick glance at Peter who looked on with interest and with a smile playing on his lips. "Richard" he paused dramatically, "is getting married."

The silence that greeted this announcement was deafening. Bingley blinked several times trying to process this information, "that reprobate is getting married?"

"Please, Bingley," Richard protested "if you must call me names I prefer scalawag or studmuffin."

"Scalawag or studmuffin," Bingley shouted, "how dare you get married before we do? Darcy and I have been scouring the country for six years looking for our brides and now you say you will be married? And who on earth would have you? It must be an escapee from some insane asylum."

Richard grinned broadly, "thank you for your kind wishes, Bingley. Much appreciated."

Bingley sighed heavily, "just don't sire too many studmuffins. One's quite enough. So, who's the lucky lady?"

"Miss Anne de Bourgh."

"Your cousin?"

"Yes. She been stalking me for years. I finally allowed her to catch me."

"What's a studmuffin?" Peter asked.

The table once more erupted in laughter.

Darcy left Richard steaming in a bath with a promise that they would go shooting that afternoon. As the three remaining men rode into Meryton each prayed to meet with a charming lady whom they hoped to thank for a most charming evening spent in their company. Alas, it was not to be. Meryton was abustle with men going about their business but there were few women to be seen.

The road to Longbourn was tree-lined on one side with open fields on the other. The sun was bright upon the earth and it was good to be alive on such a beautiful summer's day. There was little conversation between the three men as they walked along for each seemed to be deep in thought. When Darcy finally broke the silence his companions turned startled looks at him. "Richard says that the reason to marry is to have a companion to help you through life. I never thought of it that way."

"I think," said Peter, "that your cousin has the right of it. It certainly isn't for sex...or shouldn't be...as some of my school friends have found to their dismay. Two of them married pretty faces, then discovered that they were unable to have a sensible conversation that didn't involve the latest fashions. One of them has taken a mistress. How the other manages to keep his sanity is anyone's guess. He never speaks of it, but I know after five minutes in her company I start yawning."

"I would never take a mistress," Bingley avowed.

"Don't be too sure," Peter replied. "No one knows how they will react to unhappiness."

Bingley turned to Darcy, "you would never take a mistress, would you?"

Darcy looked at his old friend, so wide-eyed and innocent, "I'd hate to think I would ever break my marriage vows, Bingley, but Peter has a point. Every choice we make has to be looked at with a thought to the future. Think of all the times you've been enamored of a young lady whom you found boring within a week."

"But I didn't marry her," Bingley replied defensively.

"And have you had any regrets?"

"No! Never."

"Then you made the right decision. All I'm saying is that life is full of choices and marriage is the toughest choice we'll ever make. It has no room for error."

"And has Richard made the right choice?"

"Anne loves Richard for all his imperfections and not despite them. Yes, they will be very happy together."

"You sound almost envious," Peter said.

"Yes, I believe I am, just a little," was all Darcy replied as they had approached Longbourn and could hear laughter beyond the gates. Darcy's heart had quickened in expectation of seeing Elizabeth again. His disappointment was keenly felt when she was nowhere to be seen. Bingley and Peter, however, were delighted to see both Jane and Charlotte seated side by side on a nearby stone bench and they made a beeline toward the ladies where they made themselves immediately agreeable.

Left alone Darcy searched the large garden, then stared at the house willing Elizabeth to appear. It took a good five minutes before she heard his heart calling, but at last she walked out into the sun and saw him. She stopped and stared at him in silence. He was shocked at her appearance. Her beautiful eyes already so dark were heavily shadowed and red-rimmed. Her distress was unendurable, "Lizzie", he murmured. His use of her name in such a familiar way shocked him and he was grateful that she hadn't seemed to notice it or if she had, did not mention it. He offered his arm and she took it, "will you show me your world, Miss Elizabeth?" At her nod, they walked slowly back through the gates of Longbourn heedless of the two couples who regarded them curiously, nor of the woman at the window who was clapping her hands with a gleeful smile on her chubby face.

When Peter entered the dining room he found Bingley and his sister sitting at opposite ends of the table, the tension between them palpable. "Now what?" he wondered. He took a seat near Bingley thinking that his friend had the patience of a saint. He had yet to spend any time in the company of Caroline when she wasn't in a foul mood. He had never seen two siblings who were more unalike. Bingley so blond and affable, Caroline so dark and lacking in warmth. Even the blond Louisa Hurst who he didn't know very well exhibited a warmth towards her brother and after hearing the Hursts laughing in the privacy of their rooms, Peter suspected that Louisa enjoyed the marriage bed. He had a hard time trying to envision Caroline enjoying anything. How had she come to be part of this family? Was there a bar sinister hidden in their coat of arms? The thought brought a smile to his lips.

Having had a late night, the Hursts had opted for some rolls and coffee to break their fast and did not descend the stairs until the lunch bell rang out. The moment they entered the dining room they felt the tension in the air. Hurst eyed his sister-in-law with curiosity. He didn't have to wonder if she had looked in the mirror that morning; by Louisa's reckoning, she spent at least two hours a day doing just that. But had she taken a long look as Louisa had directed her? And if she had, what had she seen? Tall, thin, and if he wanted to be fair, not an unhandsome woman. It was only her surly disposition which made her appear so ugly at times. His eyes moved to his wife and wondered what other men thought of her. Once more, to be fair, he supposed that Louisa was no ravishing creature; her features were pleasant, eyes kind. It was only when she was laughing that her true beauty showed through. Unfortunately, having Caroline around most of the time gave Louisa few chances to show this side of herself; it was only in the bedroom that Hurst truly knew his wife. It was a shame that the course Caroline had set for herself would never lead to the marriage bed. She would never know the great pleasure she could bestow on a man nor the ecstasy of submitting to his body. Poor Caroline. What a waste.

Richard was so used to the cold air that permeated any room that Caroline inhabited he paid little attention to the silence of the room as he took his seat for he was in an excellent mood. The cause of his discomfort had been alleviated; he would soon be renamed General Fitzwilliam...how nice that sounded...and he was a man deep in love, would soon be married and saw nothing but happiness ahead of him. "Where's Darcy?" he asked.

"I am not your cousin's keeper!" Bingley responded, grimly.

Richard blinked in surprise and glanced at Peter who returned his look with an arched brow but remained silent. "My dear Mr. Bingley, I left you and Mr. Postlewaite in charge of my beloved cousin. Have you gone and lost him?"

All eyes turned to Bingley waiting for his response. After a moment's hesitation, Bingley replied, "I believe your cousin is indeed lost, but have no fear, Colonel Fitzwilliam, for he was in the company of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and from what I saw, she will take very good care of him."

The stem of Caroline's wine glass snapped, blood red staining the bodice of her orange silk. It looked to her guests as if she had been stabbed in the heart. Her face ashen she stood and fled the room. After a moment, Louisa followed her sister. The rest of the guests settled down to enjoy their excellent lunch.


	20. OAKHAM MT

After the harsh words Elizabeth spewed at her mother she spent an hour in tears and self-recrimination thoroughly ashamed at herself. Her unhappiness was now mixed with guilt for she really shouldn't have visited her anger on her mother for it was much too late for that. Lydia was lost to her family and it was doubtful that her father would ever allow her to return to Longbourn. It served no purpose to continually berate her mother whose lack of understanding made any attempt to reason with her simply a waste of breath. She had known all her life that her mother was incapable of rational thought but that was no excuse. It was her own misery that had caused her to lash out and it was inexcusable. She had given her heart away to a man who might have feelings for her...might even love her...but there were too many impediments to a happy outcome. She was a nobody with no money and no title, but that paled in comparison with Lydia's renunciation of respectability. There was no way Darcy could ignore this egregious fall from grace and she felt her heart break knowing this was a truth that she would have to live with.

By the time her tears had dried she was exhausted and horrified at her reflection in the mirror. She had allowed her temper to get away from her not once but twice. First she had directed such savage remarks at Lydia and now to her mother. She no longer recognized herself...she had become an unrecognizable virago...sullen and ugly. In her despair she told herself that Darcy would not likely be calling on her in the near future if ever again and that was for the best for nothing good could come of it. Besides, if he saw her in this condition he'd surely run for his life. He didn't need another grim and glum female in his life. One Caroline Bingley in his life was enough. This thought might have given her a laugh a few weeks ago but not now...not after seeing Miss Bingley the night before. The thought of him married to such a woman only filled her with more sorrow. Caroline Bingley would never make him happy and she did want him to be happy because she, Elizabeth Olivia Bennet, did love him so. Once more she dissolved into bitter tears.

When she heard the laughter coming from the garden below she looked down and recognized Mr. Bingley and Mr. Postlewaite sitting with Jane and Charlotte. There was no sign of Mr. Darcy. He was no doubt back at Netherfield ruing his friendly overtures the night before. So be it! She'd been wallowing in self pity long enough. It was time to stop this nonsense. She would stop mooning after Mr. Darcy and get on with her life. After splashing cold water on her face in a vain attempt to repair the damage her tears had caused she decided that she had two options open to her. She could crawl into bed and sleep away her grief...which might be accomplished in no more than a few months... or head for Oakham Mt. and seek comfort with her old friend, a giant oak which had been witness to the human condition for more than two centuries.

She picked up a small volume of sonnets and slipped down the stairs quietly and opened the door. The bright morning nearly blinded her and she stood for a moment trying to adjust her swollen eyes to the glare of light. When a tall shadow invaded the light she couldn't make out who it was until she heard his voice murmur her name so softly it seemed more like a prayer. She had been suffering so many highs and lows since she had first laid eyes on this man that she felt dizzy and could hardly believe her senses. When he offered her his arm she took it automatically though she could not comprehend what was happening.

She kept her head lowered not wishing to look into his eyes nor for him to see the havoc the last twelve hours had wrought. As they left Longbourn behind, Elizabeth said not a word but held tight to Darcy's arm so he too remained silent and did not press her to speak but was content to lend her comfort with his presence. At length she steered Darcy off the main road and they began to make their way up a gentle slope still not speaking. When they reached the stile he helped her up then jumped down and started to reach for her hand but changed his mind. For the first time since leaving Longbourn he found himself staring into those magnificent eyes as she regarded him with such sadness he felt his heart would break for her.

His hands slid around her waist and lifted her before gently lowering her so that she faced him just inches away. He watched her carefully waiting for a sign of anger at his audacious move but there was none that he could see. She moved away from him and continued up the slope but not before he saw her mouth twitch in amusement. Once they gained a small plateau Elizabeth walked to the large oak tree then leaned back against the trunk and still not looking at him directly spoke softly, "Will you tell me about George Wickham?"

Darcy had fully expected to bring up the subject of George Wickham eventually but the suddenness of the query caught him off guard. He did what he usually did when he was uneasy or was about to lie. He was a terrible liar and refrained from the practice as much as possible but in this case he felt that he had to tell her about George Wickham without divulging the sorry truth. He began to twist his pinky ring. "I fear, Miss Bennet," he managed at last, "that the news might not be what you'd like to hear. There's a good chance that he's left the country."

Into the silence that greeted this statement Elizabeth regarded Darcy in shock, "Why would you think that, Mr. Darcy?"

"He's been talking about doing just that for years, Miss Bennet. He was born on the Darcy estate as the son of our much respected steward and being so close in age as myself had many advantages denied the other young men living at Pemberley. My father was very fond of him and we became good friends." Darcy hesitated for a moment feeling that familiar sadness wash over him. "There came a time when he understood the vast chasm that separated us; I was destined to become the master of Pemberley...and he would always be the son of Pemberley's steward. By then he was being educated at Cambridge but it didn't seem to matter to him. His low station gnawed at him and made him resentful; in his own mind he could never rise above his low birth."

"But my uncle Gardiner was born low and he has become prosperous. With all the advantages Mr. Wickham got from his education and connection with your family he could have done very well."

Darcy shrugged, "Mr. Bingley's father did the same. As stringent as our English law is, hard work can overcome low birth. But Wickham grew resentful and spoke of emigrating to the Americas where he would be treated as an equal. Mr. Bingley who is one of my closest friends, is the son of a tradesman. When he came to Cambridge he really felt he didn't belong. For centuries it's been drilled into what society labeled the lower classes, that they should never try to rise above their station. Bingley was very conscious of these rules until he began to rub shoulders with men who came from all walks of life who cared nothing about his station but only if he was smart enough to join their study groups."

Elizabeth laughed, "and was he?"

"Top ten percent of his class. In his last year the president of the chess club."

"And now a gentleman farmer."

Darcy nodded, "Charles is everything Wickham could have been."

But why do you think that Mr. Wickham would choose this particular time to leave? And do you think he took my sister with him?"

"Let me be clear, Miss Bennet, it's all supposition on my part. I have no idea where George Wickham is. But it occurred to me that if he doesn't want to be found, surely leaving the country would serve that purpose. If he's followed his usual patterns, he's probably run up all kinds of debt including here in Meryton and he must know that your sister is not without friends."

She felt like telling Darcy just how wrong he was regarding Lydia's friends. Her father had cut her off and she had not heard Lydia's name mentioned by her remaining sisters for several days. Elizabeth found her despicable and as for her mother, she had proved to be a terrible friend of her youngest daughter.

Elizabeth regarded Darcy with interest. He was obviously ill at ease but she couldn't quite make out what was causing his disquiet. She didn't believe for a moment that Wickham had stolen Lydia away in the dark of night and she found it impossible to believe that Darcy thought so either. So why this story? To offer her comfort? "Where would he get the money for passage?" she asked at last.

Darcy hoped he wasn't sweating for he had grown distinctly uncomfortable. This woman he loved had a way of looking at him that pierced his soul. What on earth had made him think that he could offer a simple explanation of why she would never again see Wickham and that would be the end of it. Besides, she wasn't interested in Wickham; she wanted to know where her sister was.

"I gave him three thousand pounds in lieu of a living my father had promised him. That would give him a good start."

Elizabeth was about to ask him why, if Wickham had three thousand pounds, Lydia had arrived at the Gardiners half-starved and wearing a filthy muslin dress but after a moment's consideration, changed her mind. It really didn't matter whether Wickham had the money for passage to the new world. She could not believe that Lydia was any part of Wickham's plans and if that was true, where was Lydia? The answer came quickly for it had been on her mind from the moment her youngest sister had fled in the night. Her worst fears were being realized for she was now certain that Lydia had entered the underbelly of London society and Darcy knew it or at least suspected it.

She composed herself with resignation. This was not a topic she could discuss with Fitzwilliam Darcy. Moving any closer to the subject could only bring mortification to both of them. She groped for a change of subject. "I understand that your sister and cousin will be joining you at Netherfield. I look forward to seeing them again. They both wrote to me after I left Rosing's Park."

Darcy ran his hands through his curls once more, this time in relief now that he was done with his lies. "Miss Bennet, you have a most distracting way of changing subjects."

"And you, Mr. Darcy, have a distracting way of examining the floor when at a dance."

Oh, she was quick! "Richard and Charles have advised me that I also find sconces on walls have a particular fascination for me."

Elizabeth smiled at their exchange, "and how is Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

"Richard is walking on air though he insists his feet are planted firmly on earth. He is to be married."

Elizabeth's smile faded thinking of Anne, "who's the lucky lady?"

"Miss Anne de Bourgh"

For the first time since he had arrived in Hertfordshire Darcy finally saw what he had so sorely missed. Elizabeth's smile broke bright and clear in a genuine smile, "oh, I'm so glad for Anne. She loves him so very much. Oh, I'm so happy for her! Finally some good news."

"Has it been hard for you?"

She threw him a wry smile "I have been in better spirits and it shows. If I remember correctly, the last time I enjoyed myself, I was about to win an argument concerning the merits of poetry."

"You were dressed in the color of sunbeams and you would not have won the argument. Translating poetry into prose is pure blasphemy."

She supposed it was time to lower her eyes in the accepted manner of a blushing maiden but she could not.. She continued to regard him with a soft smile playing on her lips. "Dressed in sunbeams, Mr. Darcy? How very poetical."

He took a step toward her, "are you teasing me, Miss Bennet?"

"I believe I am, Mr. Darcy. Just a little. Do you mind terribly?"

"My shoulders are broad. But may I ask why you are carrying a book of sonnets, Miss Bennet?"

"A lapse in good judgment, perhaps?"

He took another step towards her watching her closely waiting for a sign of withdrawal. She too watched him nearing her and felt her heart quicken. He leaned towards her and placed his hands against the tree on either side of her. When she remained steadfastly silent but continued to look into his eyes he slowly leaned closer to her until his forehead rested again her, "Lizzie," he sighed.

She felt all the rules of propriety slip away as she reached her hand up and laid it lightly against the side of face, "yes William?"

He laid his hand over hers and held it tight. With his other hand he raised her face so he could look into those mesmerizing eyes that so enchanted him. His kiss was as soft and gentle as he could make it, not wanting to frighten her with his boldness. When he felt her hand move up and around his neck his hold on her tightened and his kiss deepened. Her response to him was instant. He could feel her desire meet his in a passion so intense he knew it was on the brink of getting completely out of control. With all the strength he could muster he pulled his mouth from hers still holding her tight. His breath was ragged as was hers. Once more he leaned his forehead against hers and sighed her name, "you have undone me," he added, before kissing her once more. Their second kiss was as intense as the first. Elizabeth felt that she had slipped into another worldly plane where rational thought was unknown. All she knew was him, the other part of her she'd been waiting for all her life. She wanted to invade his body and soul and stay there for the rest of her life. When he finally released her mouth she felt bereft and she cried out in protest. He held her tightly, hushing her with gentle kisses less passionate and more playful as they nipped and nibbled at each other mostly in silence, at other moments murmuring each other's name. There was no other world beyond their world and the touch and taste of each other.

It was the distant sound of the church bells tolling out the time that brought them both to their senses. They pulled apart still unable to take their eyes off each other, "I must go," she said.

"I know, but I don't want you to go."

"You can't have everything you want, Mr. Darcy," she managed. The reward she received for this pert remark was a smile so sweet and a look so dark she felt her face grow hot, "you must not look at me that way, Mr. Darcy. I will not have it."

"Miss Bennet, you cannot order me around until we are married...or at least until we are engaged."

Tears lying so close to the surface had been her constant companion since leaving Rosing's Park and now threatened to rise again but not in what should have been joy. "Have you forgotten about my sister? I would not have my family bring disgrace on yours."

"Which family is that, Elizabeth? Richard or Anne? Georgie? You should have seen Lady Catherine defend you against your cousin, the pernicious pastor."

Despite herself she couldn't help smiling, "tell me."

"I honestly don't remember all his words, but when she was finished with him his knees buckled and he ended up kneeling on the floor. If my family hadn't been so concerned over you..." Darcy looked at her pointedly..."we would have laughed at the spectacle...especially when Lady Catherine berated him for praying in the breakfast room. She also instructed him to spend at least fifteen minutes each day in rational thought. So you see my love, there is no impediment to our marriage." He marked his words with a kiss that left her shaking. "You will marry me Lizzie. I knew I loved you while we were still at Rosing's Park...maybe even at the theatre where I first saw you. I will not go back to Pemberley without you."

"I first saw you at the theatre. You came in with Georgiana and I thought you the handsomest man I had ever seen."

Darcy's eyes widened in surprise, then once more tightened his grip on her, "did you think I didn't notice the young lady dressed in lilac who was leering at me behind her fan?", he whispered, then stopped her protestations with a deep impassioned kiss. They would be married and he knew he had been blessed.

Elizabeth left Darcy at the lip of the plateau as she skipped down the slope. At the stile she climbed the three steps to the top then turned and looked back at him. He stood tall and rock solid staring down at her and she felt an aching desire to throw caution to the wind and return to his embrace. She now belonged to him body and soul and her separation from him was so painful she could not yet feel the elation that comes with loving and being loved. It was all so new, this need for another human being, that her heart felt bereft without being able to reach out and touch him. How she would survive until she next saw him and felt his arms holding her tight against his body feeling his desire rise to meet her own threatened her sanity. She turned and leaped off the stile and hurried along refusing to look back for fear she would never reach Longbourn if she looked upon him once more. She had promised to meet him on Oakham Mt. shortly after dawn on the morrow if he assured her that he would behave in a gentlemanly fashion and helped her to behave as a properly brought up young woman should. She grinned at the thought. They should have a lot of fun trying not to crack and shatter all the rules of propriety. Oh, how she loved him! "William," her heart cried, "William."

When she rounded the bend in the path she slowed to a walk and tried to compose herself for the questions that were sure to follow her belated return to Longbourn. They had agreed that their understanding would be kept to themselves at least for a few days, until they could present themselves with a semblance of decorum. It would not do to throw themselves at each other in company. What would the neighbors think? Elizabeth let out a shout of pure joy. She was beyond caring what the the neighbors thought. He loved her and her life was changed forever.

When she entered the dining room fifteen minutes late for lunch her mother immediately began her examination, "so what happened?"

"Happened where?"

"With Mr. Darcy?"

Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes!," Mrs. Bennet cried, impatiently. I saw you two leave the garden together. I want to know what happened."

Elizabeth adopted a thoughtful gaze aimed at the ceiling, "He said it was a beautiful day and I agreed before I left him at the turn-off to Oakham Mt. Then, I suppose, he continued on to wherever he was going."

Mrs. Bennet face reflected her anger and disappointment. "And did you not encourage him to walk to Oakham with you?"

"Why on earth would I do that? Besides, have you looked at me lately? I look like death warmed over. I didn't want to frighten the poor man."

"But I thought...I thought..."

"You think too much, Mother. And now if you'll forgive me, I'm going to my room and catch up on sleep." Elizabeth loaded her plate with meat, cheese, rolls and fruit. She planned to sit at her window and stare in the direction of Netherfield and eat to her heart's content. She couldn't imagine a more pleasant way to spend a lazy afternoon than to eat and think of the future with the man she loved.

When Darcy arrived back at Netherfield he was starving and happier than he had been in years. He had won his bride and planned to live happily ever after. He suspected that he must be wearing a silly smile on his face because he felt silly with happiness, something he had long ago given up ever feeling. He had found the perfect woman; clever, witty and not at all shy of him. And the way she had of teasing him made his heart soar with joy to know he had finally met his match. The thought of spending hours in her company engaged in intelligent conversation...he couldn't wait to introduce her to the Pemberley library, to the great cities of Europe...the first would be Paris...to the Grecian Isles where she she could at last walk barefoot along the sea. He loped up the steps of Netherfield feeling like a love-sick child and not at all ashamed of his giddy dreams. "Elizabeth" his heart shouted, "Elizabeth!" When the butler addressed him he stared at him blankly until the information that the gentlemen were still in the dining room had to be repeated.

He tried valiantly to compose himself when he entered the dining room and met the curious looks of his friends, "not a word out of one of you," he growled.

Richard and Bingley who knew Darcy better than most, exchanged a look "This isn't fair," mumbled Bingley.

"What's new, Cousin," Richard asked with a smirk.

Darcy attempted a glare but failed miserably. "I have nothing to say."

"You were sorely missed at Longbourn," Peter dared.

"And," added Hurst, "your hostess missed you too, Darcy. I might say that she was inconsolable and left the table much disturbed."

"I will not be teased," replied Darcy." The minute the words left his mouth he couldn't contain a broad grin belying his sentiment remembering Lizzie and her sweet teasing.

Bingley regarded his friend with a gloomy stare, "this isn't fair," he repeated. "First a scalawag, now a confirmed bachelor. What is the world coming to?"

Darcy felt his face flush as the room exploded in amusement at his expense.

In Caroline Bingley's room there was no laughter, only anger and tears as Louisa tried to console her sister. "Please, Carrie, you'll only make yourself sick."

"Her sister is nothing but a whore!" Caroline raged.

"Dear heavens, Carrie! Lower your voice! You know no such thing."

Caroline continued to pace, "have you heard the latest gossip? They say that the local prostitute disappeared the same night Miss Lydia Bennet did. You can't tell me that they're not together. I must tell Darcy before it's too late. He will thank me for it."

Louisa's heart sank. Her sister was bent on destroying herself. "I would suggest you get drunk and forget talking to Darcy about anything. We don't know yet what went on between Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet but if she is his choice, he will never forgive you if you tell him his future sister-in-law is a whore. And our brother will never forgive you either."

Caroline stopped her pacing, deep in thought, then turned to Louisa, "yes, I forgot about Charles. Perhaps you're right, Sister."

Louisa eyed her sister with suspicion. It had been too easy to rein in Caroline's anger. She was up to something. Louisa wondered if it was time to destroy Caroline and all her delusions. Or...let her self destruct. She was so tired of handling Caroline; so tired of keeping secrets from her husband; just plain tired. And so was her husband. Hurst had the patience of a saint...as unsaintly as he could be...but one day he was going to blow. Despite the fact that both families occupied two different residences, Caroline spent as much time at the Hurst home as she did in her own and insisted that Louisa join her on her frequent shopping expeditions and her morning visits to the few friends she had. Hurst's complaints had lately become more frequent and volatile. She knew a time was coming when she'd have to sever relations with her sister and she wasn't sure she was up to it. They went back a long way. She had been more mother than sister to Caroline after their mother's death, continuing the delusional words of comfort their mother had been filling Caroline's head for years. Now, Louisa's guilt ran deep offering as her only excuse their youth. Louisa was eleven years old and Caroline barely eight when their mother had died so tragically.

She remembered the whispered fairy tales their mother had spun in the darkness of night. Caroline's real father was a nobleman who would one day take her to live in his castle and dress her in silks and satins. She would be rich beyond her wildest dreams and one day a handsome prince would marry her and they would live happily after. The story would never vary and it wasn't long before Louisa could recite the oft-told tale. Though she never forgot the anger and tears, the terrible accusations, the shunning by the other villagers and the abrupt move to Ellesmere it took many years before Louisa understood the ways of man and woman and how it was possible for a woman to give birth to a child who's father was unknown to her other children.

Of course she had no proof of her suspicions, only surmise. Their father had treated Caroline fairly in his will; both daughters had received twenty thousand pounds. The bulk of his estate went to his son, Charles, with a stipulation that each daughter receive an allowance until their marriages. There was no set amount set forth in the will, but Charles was generous to a fault and Louisa loved and respected her brother for his goodness. She was determined that Charles would find his happiness and if it meant destroying Caroline, she would do it. There might not be proof of her unnatural birth but one whisper in Town would be enough to break Caroline.

The following morning Elizabth bolted out of her bed and dressed quickly. By the time she reached the turn-off to Oakham Mt. she was out of breath and had to stop for a moment before she started up the slope and didn't look up for the the next few minutes. When she did, she saw Darcy leaning against the stile watching her. She stopped again waiting for him to come to her but he remained as he was, simply watching her. She tilted her head in question but he still didn't respond.

She continued trudging up the slope until she was near enough that he could reach out and take both her hands in his. He pulled her gently towards him and placed her hands around his neck and kissed her roughly, "you kept me waiting," he growled.

"You might have come down to help me," she protested.

"And deprive me of the pleasure of looking at you? No, my love. I have few foibles but you will be on the top of the list. I love looking at you knowing that you belong to me."

"And do you belong to me?"

"For the rest of our lives, Lizzie, and beyond."

At his quick response she finally felt that surge of happiness that she'd been waiting for. Since the day before she had seemed to be floating on a different plane where she couldn't tell the difference between a dream state and reality. His words and kiss ended the demons which had haunted her since he had first declared himself. "I love you so," she whispered. His kiss left her in no doubt that he loved too.

Later that afternoon Lady Catherine arrived with her daughter Anne and niece, Georgiana Darcy. She was in a wonderful mood having spent a delightful time spending money and reacquainting herself with old friends. She felt renewed and deliriously happy for Anne. It seemed after all the years of unhappiness life had changed for both of them in ways she could hardly have contemplated a year before. There had been a time when to see her daughter jump from the carriage and literally throw herself at her intended would have given her a spell of the vapors but seeing the joy on Richard's face as he swung Anne around brought tears to her eyes. Oh, life was good!

Georgie stepped down quickly laughing merrily still watching her cousins cavorting unashamedly where all could see their joy. Darcy hugged her, "and how is my favorite sister?"

"Very well, Brother. Very well, indeed."

Darcy took Lady Catherine's hand and helped her descend the carriage with a little more decorum, "welcome to Netherfield, Aunt."

Bingley greeted Georgie with a broad smile and waited patiently to be introduced to the formidable Lady Catherine of whom he had heard so much, none of it good. Lady Catherine sensed his disquiet and immediately put him at ease, "thank you so much for your kind invitation, Mr. Bingley. I've heard so much about you from my nephew and niece. I'm delighted to meet you at last.

Bingley relaxed and lapsed into his usual affable self. "I'm delighted to meet you at long last, Lady Catherine. Do allow me to escort you," he said and offered his arm. As they began to walk up the steps to Netherfield Lady Catherine looked up to see a tall, dark woman dressed in finery more suited for a ball. She could hardly credit her eyes. The woman was dressed in heavy silk topped with a plumed hat of crushed velvet. She had once heard Darcy refer to Bingley's sister as the orange ogre. So this had to be be Miss Caroline Bingley. Whether an ogre, Lady Catherine did not know, but orange, she certainly was. Long years of learning to contain her laughter at the ridiculous helped her not to break out in giggles...lately she had been spending a lot of time with Georgie...but she was hard-pressed. Caroline's dress was positively preposterous on a sunny afternoon in June. To make the situation more comical...at least to Lady Catherine's distorted sense of humor...Caroline held herself as regally as a queen. Worse was to come.

"Welcome to Netherfield, Lady Catherine. I can't tell you how thrilled I am to receive you. Absolutely enchanted to meet dear Mr. Darcy's aunt at long last."

Lady Catherine was mesmerized by the apparition confronting her, but her pronunciation was so stilted and artificial sounding she thought perhaps that Caroline had some kind of speech impediment.

"The pleasure is all mine," Lady Catherine responded. And indeed it was. Getting out of the summer stink of London for a few a weeks would be a wonderful change, but having such a hostess would certainly add to her entertainment and she was perfectly happy in her expectations.


	21. THERE IS A SEASON

Word that another large carriage had come through Meryton on the way to Netherfield Park soon circulated through the environs of the village of Meryton and added great excitement to the already heady good cheer following the assembly. Mrs. Bennet was sure that there would be more eligible bachelors residing at Netherfield and her ecstasy knew no bounds. Her dearest Jane was sure to be married by Christmas for Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice and she was sure that her eldest daughter could not be so beautiful for nothing. She would have so much pin-money, so many jewels and carriages. To think she would have a daughter ensconced as the Mistress of Netherfield was something she had always dreamt of and now all her dreams were coming true.

As for her second daughter, she had given up on her. She was destined to be an old maid for there was no talking to her. She refused any of her mother's good advice on how to capture the heart of a man. Lizzie's recalcitrance grieved her sorely but she could not waste any more time on her when she still had Kitty to consider. Kitty was now in her seventeenth year and ready for marriage. It grieved her no end that Peter Postlewaite had not invited her dear Kitty to dance and she was going to have to think hard on how to accomplish that feat before the next assembly. An estate in Nottinghamshire worth six thousand a year! Ooh! How good that sounded. That wealth would be wasted on Charlotte Lucas. Kitty added her approbation with a giggle followed by a coughing spasm which forced her to quit the room and join Jane out in the garden for some fresh air.

Mrs. Bennet continued rambling on about her expectations while Elizabeth suffered in silence until unable to contain herself she allowed a heavy sigh to escape at this utter nonsense. The sound resulted in an angry glare from her mother. "Just you wait, Miss Lizzy. When you end up an old maid you will regret these days when I worked so hard for your happiness. You act as though I enjoy spending all my waking hours thinking of the futures of all my daughters. Do you think I enjoy spending so much money on your fine clothes? Have you ever given a thought to my future? When I was your age I had so many dreams. I would have a son and when he was old enough, he would take over the running of Longbourn. And then do you know what your father and I planned? Of course you don't. Not one of you asked me what my dreams were. Did you think I wanted to spend the rest of my life in this small village...did you think your father wanted to bury himself here? On our wedding trip we visited Florence and Rome and the following year when I was carrying Jane we spent a week in Paris. Except for a few trips to Town we've both had to settle for this existence. You just might show a little gratitude for what I'm trying to do for you."

Elizabeth sat frozen in her chair staring at her mother in shock. What dreams was she talking about? Elizabeth cast her mind back over the past and could not recall her mother ever voicing displeasure with her life as the Mistress of Longbourn. She'd always assumed that her mother was perfectly satisfied with her situation except for having five daughters who had no dowries.

Mrs. Bennet eyed her daughter with some amusement. "What's the matter, Lizzie? Have you nothing to say? You are always so glib. Always have an answer for everything. Did you really think I had no dreams of my own? Had no disappointments in life? Did you think that at the age of two and forty I was perfectly happy to spend the next twenty years here at Longbourn dining with the same dull people year after year? Playing whist...a game I detest...three nights a week. Watching your father grow more bored and discontented, longing for his own half-forgotten dreams?"

"But, Mother, why didn't you ever say anything? I had no idea you were so unhappy."

"What good would that have done? Oh, I prattled enough in the early years. You and Jane went to sleep listening to my daydreams. Then Mary was born, then Kitty and finally Lydia. Five confinements and only five daughters to show for it. Where was the son we so longed for? He was to take over the running of Longbourn when he reached his majority and then your father and I would return to Europe and enjoy our old age basking in the sun."

Elizabeth didn't recognize the woman sitting across the table from her. Not once had she ever spoken of the past with such longing and bitterness. Worse still, she had not shed a tear nor mentioned her nerves during her brief recitation though her hands were trembling as she buttered another sweet roll.

"There was a tiny villa near a lake and I never forgot it's beauty. For years I dreamed of returning someday and buying that villa and living happily ever after. She laughed without mirth, "wasted dreams, wasted time, wasted life. Not what I want for my girls."

Elizabeth felt a sharp stab of remorse. "You should have said something."

"You should have asked."

"Yes. I should have asked. I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Of course I can. That's something else mothers do. Now go and take one of your longs walks and leave me to myself. My head is bursting with all this talk."

Lizzie did as she was told and headed for Mt. Oakham knowing there was no chance of meeting with Darcy for he was surely busy with Lady Catherine and Georgie. Besides, he was the last man on earth she wanted to see at the moment. She felt thoroughly ashamed of herself as well she might. She had always prided herself on her acumen in judging who a person was and quick to empathize yet she had failed her own mother. As her father's favorite she had never received the knowledge that a husband could take liberties with a wife which a child should never do. His open teasing of his wife had set the pattern which Lizzie had cheerfully worn never giving a thought to how ungrateful a child she was. She thought she was so clever to regard her mother as the silliest woman in England. Now she had to wonder just who held the title in the Bennet household. Her mortification grew as she suddenly realized just how selfish she had been acting by withholding the truth of her understanding with Darcy. By the time she reached her favorite tree she was so full of self-recrimination that she didn't at first see Darcy leaning against her favorite tree.

"Elizabeth," he cried. "What is it?"

She ran towards him and threw her arms around his neck, "Mr. Darcy! I did not expect to see you before tomorrow. Must you always come upon me when I look my worst?"

"I suppose if we are to be married I won't be able to help it," he laughed. He embraced her, holding her tight. "What is it?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I've just realized that I'm not a very good daughter. I've deprived my mother of the best news she could ever have. She will finally be getting rid of a most ungrateful child."

"Her loss and my gain." Darcy kissed her gently, "does this mean I have permission to speak with your father?"

"Yes, my love, you do. I've been so selfish in wanting to keep our news to ourselves for a few days. I so hated the thought of all the fuss that would start as soon as my mother knew. The countless visitors offering congratulations while my mother crowed about the catch I had made was too awful to contemplate. All the romance would have flown out the window and I do so love a good romance."

"Oh, Lizzie," he sighed. "For years Richard and I made sport of our aunt for our own amusement when all she wanted was her daughter's happiness. Perhaps your mother and my aunt are more alike than either of us could have guessed."

"Heaven forfend!" she cried, laughing despite herself.

Darcy laughed with her, delighted that he had been able to lift her spirits. "But seriously, what brought all this on?"

"Nothing out of the norm. She was making wedding plans for Jane, plotting a marriage between Kitty and Mr. Postlewaite and naturally I made a remark that was not to her liking. You can imagine the rest." When he remained silent she pulled away to look into his face. "Are you listening to me?"

"I always listen to you, my love. But I must confess that the thought of your sister and Peter sent my brain into a spin. But don't worry, sweetheart, I'll come to my senses at any moment."

His smile was so sweet she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, "before I forget, allow me to tell you how much I admire and love you." Her sweet declaration elicited a deep and gentle kiss which declared his love more than words could ever do. When he finally released her mouth she held him tight feeling the urgency of his need for her, "when will you speak to my father?"

"First thing in the morning."

"Good. That will give me time to warn him."

Darcy threw his head back and laughed hardily at her choice of words, "warn him, my love? Surely I'm not in the same class as your cousin, the dreadful deacon. I would prefer you to inform him of an impending visit from a very respectable young man."

The rest of their limited time together was spent in whispers and murmurs and soft kisses of longing. She knew he had to get back to Netherfield to attend his aunt and sister but the hours ahead loomed so desolate for her, it took all her strength of character to finally pull away from him. She brushed away a tear, "I miss you already, but you must go. I'll be perfectly all right. Besides, I want to spend some more time with my mother. I must warn...that is to say, inform her, of the impending visit of Lady Catherine on the morrow. My ears will be exhausted by the time my head hits the pillow tonight." With one last kiss she turned and hurried back to Longbourn.

Later that evening...

Lady Catherine had not been herself for several weeks and at times felt unnerved at the changes that had been wrought to her way of living and thinking. As a child she was taught what was right and given good principles but very early in her childhood she realized that it was a man's world and woman mere chattels at the complete mercy of their fathers, brothers and even their sons, particularly if they were not in possession of extreme beauty. Women of the plainer variety could not expect to play more than a very small part in life's drama, for it was expected that she would end up a mousy little creature, unmarried, sullen, and finding solace in the darkest corner of a room. However, Lady Catherine Fitzwilliam was made of sterner stuff and surprised everyone by becoming a leading light in London society by pure force of her personality. She allowed nothing to get in her way and never looked back so never realized that for all her accomplishments she never attained the one thing that most people desire above all else. Though complacency , contentment and pride were her constant companions, happiness and Lady Catherine were strangers. She was so used to thinking meanly of those beneath her station that she was hard-pressed to allow for the differences of character and thus this latest penchant for making allowances for the bizarre behavior of her fellow creatures had alarmed her. It was left to her sister-in-law and her daughter, Anne, to explain that happiness was the cause of this disquiet and she should accept it and not question it. After this information Lady Catherine experienced a week of introspection and for a further hour or two felt a deep regret for having missed one of life's pleasures but quickly determined that regret for the past was simply a further waste of her time. If the empathy for her fellow creatures was part of happiness then so be it. It didn't hurt and actually felt rather pleasant. She thought it might become a habit. It was in this frame of mind that Lady Catherine surveyed the table at her first dinner at Netherfield. She was determined to be pleased and refrain from muttering any acerbic remarks about her fellow guests. This was proving to be a difficult task as their deportment left much to be desired.

Anne and Richard were ignoring the excellent gazpacho as well as their fellow guests in favor of whispering sweet nothings at each other and exchanging secret smiles which bordered on the indelicate. That a well brought up daughter of hers might indulge in such unseemly behavior was not to be endured. However, in her new-found state of happiness Lady Catherine decided that endure it she must, for this breach of conduct was preferable to ignoring each other as they were slated to share their bed as well as their lives.

At the other end of the table the sweet-faced Charles Bingley had yet to taste his soup but instead continued to stir it with a perplexed look on his face as if he had never seen such a thing. Versions of gazpacho were a common summer treat so she was sure he knew what is was yet he persisted in his examination. The continuous scraping of his spoon against the bottom of his bowl was getting on her nerves but she restrained herself from remarking on his behavior as it might appear improper for a guest to chastise her host for making too much noise at the dinner table. Retaining happiness under all circumstances was proving to be not without it's difficulties but she was willing to try.

As for Darcy, he sat with a spoonful of soup half-way to his mouth seemingly at a loss as to what he was supposed to do next. She suspected that he had been nibbling on something more uncommon than tomato soup and had lost his appetite for plebeian food. For a fleeting moment she felt a wave of sadness wash over her remembering how much she had wanted to see that look on his face when he regarded her daughter, Anne. But it was not to be. Anne had chosen a different path and so had he. There was no doubt in her mind that it had all worked out for the best. Anne was deliriously happy and from the dreamy expression on Darcy's face, so was he. For the first time in his life he was in love and apparently he was finding it rough going. Well, Miss Elizabeth was an uncommon young lady who would keep him on his toes and it really was rather sweet to see the uptight Master of Pemberley acting like a schoolboy deep in the throes of first love. She had no doubt that they were well-suited for each other and she was content.

Peter Postlewaite was also ignoring his soup while earnestly examining the ceiling in deep contemplation. Lady Catherine sincerely hoped that he wasn't searching for flaws as it would not do to have the ceiling collapse on them before completion of dinner. Georgiana had twice nearly emptied a spoonful of soup into her lap. No wonder! She couldn't keep her eyes off the young man. And why not? Next to Darcy, Lady Catherine could not remember ever seeing a more handsome gentleman. If his dark hair and blue eyes could make the heart of an old crone like herself go a-twitter, she could imagine what it was doing to a young, unworldly sixteen year old. Her dear niece was growing up. There would not be too many tomorrows before Georgie would be searching for her own true love.

The Hursts were the only diners who knew what to do with the soup and did so while ignoring the rest of the guests. A strange couple, the Hursts. They seemed to have nothing to say yet she had seen their eyes exchange several silent messages the content of which Lady Catherine could not decipher. Louisa Hurst was more like her brother in looks and had a gentle demeanor which to Lady Catherine seemed to hold just a touch of sadness. Her husband, on the other hand, was sharp-eyed with a glint in his eyes that bespoke of humor though she had noticed that the occasional look he threw at his sister-in-law held no amusement at all.

As for her hostess, Lady Catherine was finding it extremely difficult to make sensible conversation with a woman dressed like a very large animated ostrich, however she found Caroline Bingley to be one of the most fascinating creatures she had ever beheld and certainly of more interest than the rest of the diners who were no fun at all.

Caroline was again garbed in a peculiar shade of orange with matching plumes while Lady Catherine had chosen a summer dress of light blue silk showing her innate good taste as well as understated elegance. The contrast in their style of dress was telling but Caroline Bingley seemed unaware of her own lack of tastes as she continued to speak in her new modulated voice. "I fear you're in for a culture shock, your Ladyship, and will not find this country to your liking though I assure you I will do everything in my power to amuse you."

"I assure you that I can amuse myself, Miss Bingley. But might I ask what there is about Hertfordshire that you find not to your liking?"

"They have no style of dress and no manners. One of the natives actually had the timidity to ask me where I found my plumes. I think you'll find the citizens in Hertfordshire to be nothing but barbarians."

"Indeed? How unfortunate for you. I can assure you that none of my family or indeed any of my close friends would ever consider asking you where you had found those plumes." Lady Catherine took a long drink of excellent Merlot to steady her voice. "But you surprise me Miss Bingley. If you find the natives so barbaric I wonder you continue to remain in residence. Surely your sister could host for your brother. I can hardly imagine what could hold your interest in a land so distasteful to you."

Caroline lowered her voice with a quick glance at the Hursts, "I fear, your Ladyship, "that my sister does not see the danger my brother finds himself in." Lady Catherine responded with a lift of a brow signaling her hostess to continue, which she did. "Charles is the dearest brother a sister could wish for, but I fear he is too naive for his own good. He's become enamored with a young woman whose family is a disgrace. I could tell you more but the dinner table is not the place."

"This does sound ominous, and I take it you plan to put an end to this infatuation?"

"Indeed I do! My brother is meant for better things than that particular family"

"Surely her father is not in trade, Miss Bingley, for there is nothing more odious than a woman who aspires to raise her position by marrying into a higher station."

Hurst finally broke his silence, "appalling thought, your Ladyship, but you would be surprised at what lengths some women will go to achieve their goals in life."

Lady Catherine eyed Hurst in genuine amusement, "I beg to differ...at least on one point...at my age, nothing surprises me." She turned to Caroline, "but I fear I interrupted you, Miss Bingley. Do tell me why you so disapprove of this young lady?"

Before Caroline could formulate an answer a sound at the end of the table got their attention and Lady Catherine turned and stared into the face of a not so affable Charles Bingley who had dropped his spoon to stare at his sister. The warning glare he favored Caroline with was ignored with a shrug, however it was enough to turn the direction of her conversation towards the rest of the inhabitants of Hertfordshire. "What I witnessed at an assembly the other night was enough to convince me that there is no refinement to be found in all of Hertfordshire."

Lady Catherine regarded her hostess with amusement, "surely you exaggerate, Miss Bingley. "

"Indeed I do not, Lady Catherine. Their dancing bordered on impropriety and the music was more noise than not."

"Oh, dear. How trying for you."

"Oh, you have no idea. I stood it for less than an hour before I fled in disgust at the vulgarity of it all."

"Perhaps it's something in the water."

"Pardon?"

"Just recently I met a young woman who hails from this part of the country. A pretty little thing if I recall though decided in her opinions. How shocked I was to discover that she couldn't tell the difference between Mozart and Beethoven. Could it be that the water has somehow become contaminated and makes the natives of Hertfordshire opinionated, ignorant and tone deaf?"

Caroline's affected smile dimmed somewhat, "yes, perhaps," she allowed, as Anne suddenly began to cough. Richard affected to bring some relief to Anne by patting her back though it seemed to her Ladyship that the contact was more of a tender massage. Peter took his eyes off the ceiling and pressed a glass of water into Georgie's hand as she too had suffered a sudden spate of coughing.

Lady Catherine was sorely disappointed. She had hoped to have some fun with Caroline Bingley but that woman was proving to be too easy a mark for irony. She now turned her attention to her nephew, Darcy. "I do hope you curb your intake of water, Nephew. I have it on good authority that the water in Hertfordshire makes you stupid and there's enough of that going around."

"Lady Catherine, I must protest," cried Caroline. "I said nothing about the water."

Darcy , who had been listening to this exchange, threw a dry look at his aunt but otherwise remained silent. It was left to Peter to reply. "I beg to differ with your authority, Lady Catherine. If there is something in the water I believe it's something more magical than stupidity. As a matter of fact, it may not be the water but the air. From the moment our carriage entered Hertfordshire I found my spirits lifting and knowing beyond reason that my life was about to change for the better. Since my arrival I've felt a wonderful sense of peace and hope. Yes, I'm sure it isn't the water, but the air. Colonel Fitzwilliam! I'm sure you have something intelligent to say on the subject. Would you like to share?"

"Indeed I would," Richard responded with a grin, still rubbing Anne's back though she was no longer coughing. "It's neither the water nor the air. Water conforms too much to it's surroundings so leaves little for imagination or change, and nothing dulls the senses more than a person who will not admit that life is but a brief sojourn and we must be willing to change if we are to survive. As for air, it's too inconstant...I personally have heard some of the most outrageous ideas come straight out of thin air. No! It's the fresh smell of the earth and the trees and wild flowers that abound in this shire." He dared a sly glance at Caroline, "there is no whisper of musk here in the country." He ignored the icy glare from his hostess and turned to Darcy, "I'm sure you have a relevant quote, Cousin."

"I suppose you expect something of fire from me," Darcy replied, "but I prefer to continue your theme, "When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, and the dimpling stream runs laughing by; when the air does laugh with our merry wit, and the green hill laughs with the noise of it."

"Ah, Byron," Richard smiled.

Darcy nodded and turned to Bingley, "but we have yet to hear from our host. Tell us, Charles, what is it about Hertfordshire that makes you so inattentive to your guests. You sit there stirring your soup with a dreamy expression on your face, your mind miles away...at least three miles away."

"Forgive me, Darcy, but I must decline. I'd rather hear from my sister. I'd be most interested in hearing why she insists on remaining at Netherfield when she would much prefer to be in town or at least in another country further north. She must know by now that there is nothing here for her and no expectations beyond the company of barbarians. Perhaps you would be good enough to tell us why you stay, Caroline, when you find every moment here a misery?"

Despite what Caroline thought of servants, most of them were blessedly not hard of hearing though being well-trained, they pretended to be so. When several eyes turned to Miss Caroline Bingley awaiting her reply to her brother's request the servants retained their stoic expressions. It was left to a few fortunate ones who were placed directly behind their master to witness their hated mistress's complexion turn an alarming plum which later was described downstairs as clashing horrifically with the shocking orange of her gown.

"You're all talking nonsense," she snapped.

"I don't think so," her brother snapped back. "Except for a brief hour at the assembly you have not stirred from this house. You have declined every invitation from our new neighbors. You have not even ventured into Meryton. You have nothing kind to say about anything or anyone yet you won't even take the time to meet with them. You surely must need some new fashion gazettes by now so I'm really at a loss to understand why you are still here. Why don't you enlighten us all."

Caroline's face had now blanched white, "Louisa! Say something! Tell our brother what kind of a fool he is. Tell him."

Louisa Hurst signaled for a third glass of wine, "you're on your own, Carrie. You tell him."

"Louisa!"

Louisa took a dainty sip of wine before addressing her brother. "Charles, I'd be delighted to play hostess for you. Perhaps you would like to invite the Bennets for dinner in the next few days. Then, of course, the Lucas's were most kind to us at the assembly. How does that sound?" The smile Bingley offered his eldest sister was all the answer Louisa needed. "Good! I'll begin preparations first thing in the morning." When Caroline threw her napkin down and left the room hurriedly, Louisa remained sitting and made no attempt to follow.

"What a pleasant dinner this has been so far, Mr. Bingley," Lady Catherine offered. "There's nothing like intelligent conversation to aid digestion."

Anne stifled a laugh behind her napkin while Georgie was shaking so hard she finally did manage to spill a spoonful of soup on her lap. Mortified, and full of apologies she fled the room just as the table shuddered slightly with the reverberation of a door slamming high above their heads.

At Longbourn the following afternoon,

Lady Catherine sat in fascination with Mrs. Frances Bennet. Anne had warned her that according to Elizabeth her mother was probably the silliest woman in England, but Lady Catherine had not yet decided whether this silliness came naturally or was the result of living with the knowledge that she had not done well by her daughters. Darcy had also warned her that Mrs. Bennet had a propensity of talking too much about nothing at all. These descriptions were not obvious during the first ten minutes of her visit for Mrs. Bennet had been struck dumb as Lady Catherine and Darcy made their entrance into her drawing room. Embarrassed by her mother's odd behavior but determined not to show it, Elizabeth took care of the civilities which she did despite the tumult of her heart beating so rapidly.

After Darcy's visit to her father, Elizabeth was now officially engaged to marry Lady Catherine's nephew though neither her mother nor her ladyship knew of these developments. There was no doubt of her mother's reaction once she was informed, but what Lady Catherine would think was another matter entirely. Darcy had assured her that nothing in the world could keep him from taking her back to Pemberley as his bride. However, if that august lady disapproved she wasn't sure what the outcome might be. The thought of entering marriage despite the disapprobation of his family would be a poor start to their marital bliss.

Elizabeth had only told her mother of the impending visit by Mr. Darcy and his aunt Lady Catherine. She had impressed upon it as simply a gracious gesture and not to make anything of it. Mrs. Bennet had taken the news placidly and for once did not let her imagination soar which in itself was a novelty. Elizabeth was at a loss to understand what was going through her mother's mind.

Both guests made a concentrated effort to put the Mistress of Longbourn at ease but it was left to Lady Catherine to succeed beyond her wildest dreams. The tea had hardly been served before Mrs. Bennet finally found her voice and took her seat next to Lady Catherine and began to recite her litany of complaints. There apparently were only two bright spots in her life; Mary's marriage to a respectable cleric and Lydia's marriage to a soldier who would go far in his career. This sudden turn-about was more the woman Lady Catherine had been warned about. That a woman unknown to her would so freely discuss the hardships of finding acceptable husbands for her five daughters was quite remarkable especially on such short acquaintance.

Lady Catherine chose not to comment on Lydia's marriage, the less said the better. She chose instead to concentrate on Mary whom she assured her mother was quite well and would receive the finest attention during her confinement.

Twice she allowed her attention to wander to Elizabeth who sat with head bowed, her hands fidgeting in her lap clearly uneasy with her mother's constant prattle. However it was Darcy who gained more of her attention. He stood somewhat behind Elizabeth with his hand resting lightly on the back of her chair for all the world like her protector. Darcy had not as yet taken her into any of his plans concerning his future, at least in so many words, however, his actions were speaking louder than any words could do. Lady Catherine turned back to Mrs. Bennet wondering if she had any idea that her Elizabeth had won the heart of such a distinguished man.

Almost reading her mind, Mrs. Bennet now turned her attention to her second daughter. She leaned close to her new friend, "I'm really at my wit's end about Elizabeth. She refuses to listen to any of my advice."

Lady Catherine kept a straight face with difficulty, "what kind of advice?"

"She must be married or her life will be disastrous. But she is so stubborn. Did you know that she turned down Mr. Collins as being too stupid and repulsive? And she sneered at Mr. Wickham whom she dared to say was too charming to be true. She swears she will go unmarried rather than marrying without love. Have you ever heard such nonsense?"

"Only recently," Lady Catherine replied remembering her own sentiments a few weeks earlier. Once more she glanced at Darcy hoping he hadn't heard Mrs. Bennet, but he was more concerned for Elizabeth. From her vantage point she could see that his finger was now touching her shoulder lightly. She looked back at Mrs. Bennet who was completely oblivious to the scene taking place in her drawing room. Lady Catherine was hard-pressed not to laugh. Here was Mrs. Bennet complaining bitterly that her daughter Elizabeth would never catch a husband, while the Master of Pemberley couldn't keep his hands off her daughter who was lying back with her eyes closed, a sweet smile playing on her lips.

With great determination she restrained her desire to throw back her head and laugh out loud. She found herself taking a vicarious pleasure in seeing her adored nephew so enamored with the independent Elizabeth Bennet. She remembered the evening that Elizabeth walked into her drawing room. Not in a million years could she have imagined that their lives were about to change in such a drastic way. Darcy would fall in love, Anne would have the nerve to finally speak of the love she felt for Richard, and she herself would finally leave the confines of Rosing's Park to embark on a new life full of change and laughter. Life really had a way of creeping up on the unwary.

On the carriage ride back to Netherfield, Lady Catherine remained silent while Darcy fidgeted waiting for his aunt to say something...anything about their visit but she remained steadfastly silent staring out the window at the passing landscape. He allowed the silence to continue until they reached the outskirts of Meryton before his nerves exploded. "Well? Aren't you going to say anything? What do you think?"

Startled, Lady Catherine turned a blank look on him, "about what?"

Darcy lost complete patience, "no games, I beg of you, Aunt."

"Forgive me, Nephew, but I believe it's up to you to say something. Mrs. Bennet noticed nothing to cause her alarm or interest, but I certainly did.

Darcy had the grace to look embarrassed, "Elizabeth needed my comfort."

"Is that what you call it?"

"We are to be married."

"I should hope so. Have you spoken to her father?"

"This morning."

"And her mother?"

Hesitantly, he tried to explain why Mrs. Bennet was still in the dark. "We wanted to keep our happiness between ourselves for a few days knowing how her mother would react. You don't know her, Aunt. She can get quite hysterical when she's pleased."

"Elizabeth or her mother?"

Darcy sighed in exasperation, "Aunt, do I have your approval?"

"Do you need my approval?"

"No. But I'd like to have it all the same."

"Then you have it."

"Really?"

Lady Catherine relented with a smile, "yes Nephew. Really." The smile of unmitigated joy on Darcy's face moved Lady Catherine deeply. "Your uncle will want to talk to you but I see no difficulty there. Richard and Anne as well as Georgie have painted Miss Elizabeth in glowing colors. And I too have assuaged his fears that you might have fallen for her arts and allurements. But I must say, that you will have a most peculiar mother-in law."

"I did warn you."

"Yes, you did. But there was something odd about her. Something I recognized but can't recall. Something in her manner...oh well, it doesn't matter. You're marrying her daughter and she is a very sensible young lady. I wish you all the best, William. I think you will be a very happy man. See that she remains a very happy woman."

Back at Longbourn,

"They were very nice people," Mrs. Bennet said to Elizabeth as they both watched the carriage make it's way down the road from Longbourn on the way back to Netherfield.

"I'm glad to hear it, Mother, for I have some news I have to impart to you."

"Who were those people?"

Elizabeth frowned in confusion, "those people? That was Mr. Darcy and his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh"

"Oh yes. Help me up the stairs, will you dear. I'm feeling tired now. I think I want to lie down for a while."

Elizabeth took her mother's arm and they walked slowly up the stairs, "I think my news will raise your spirits."

"Have you heard from Lydia?"

Elizabeth's steps faltered, "Lydia? No, Mother. It's about me."

"I think you should wear your lilac gown when they come to dinner tomorrow night. It looks so becoming to you."

Elizabeth settled her mother on the bed and covered her with the comforter, "would you like some tea?"

"No, I just want to rest. It's been a long day."

It was not yet three o'clock and Elizabeth stared at her mother in confusion before sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking her hand. "Mother, are you unwell?"

"I'm very tired."

Now seriously concerned, "I think I should call the apothecary."

"I want my Lydia. Call her, will you please. Tell her I need her."

Elizabeth left the room in a panic and ran downstairs screaming for Mrs. Hill. That lady appeared and took in Elizabeth's appearance, "your mother?" she cried.

Elizabeth nodded, "find my father! Tell him to come quickly!"

It took a full ten endless minutes for Mr. Bennet to be located and make his way up the stairs to his wife's quarters. By then Elizabeth was standing at the window looking down into the garden where Jane and Kitty sat quietly talking, blissfully unaware of what was taking place in the room above. Behind her she heard her father imploring his wife to awaken. Over and over he demanded her to awaken but she would wake no more. Elizabeth turned from the window at the sound of his sobs. The sound was terrible to hear and she thought her heart would break.


	22. SORROW

Darcy had always imagined that love was something ethereal, bright and sunny, but he was finding the emotion less cheerful. If death was the worst thing that could happen to men, surely love came in a close second. Hardly ten minutes had elapsed since he'd bid her farewell at Longbourn and already his sense of loss was acute. He felt only a gnawing pain to complete himself. He needed to make a public commitment to her. He desired Elizabeth's presence in his life so much that he ached when he couldn't see and touch her. His carnal desire for her had not waned, for he wanted her in his bed to give and take pleasure that only true lovers can fulfill but his desires had altered into something much more complex and more the source of his pain. Now his mind was filled with images of Elizabeth sharing a meal with him, of sitting close to her as they read together, of long walks through the myriads of paths that criss-crossed the forests surrounding Pemberley. He imagined that he could hear her laughter echoing through the halls of their home beckoning him to come to her much like the sirens of the sea who lured their prey with songs of enchantment. His stomach was in a constant roil and his mind seemed to be flitting from one subject to another and never making any sense. Being in love was proving more difficult than he had ever imagined. He had never felt more alive but sincerely hoped he might survive the experience with some of his dignity intact.

During the slow passing through Meryton he made what he thought was an inspired decision. He would make a quick trip to Town and start the process of obtaining a special license. Anne and Georgie wanted to reacquaint themselves with Elizabeth and it would much easier without an ardent lover hovering in the background. He knew that Elizabeth would probably want to marry in the Meryton church but being a man who liked to be prepared for any contingency, a special license would allow his marriage to take place in any shire and at any time without banns needing to be published. He saw no reason to delay their marriage longer than propriety demanded. In his fevered brain that meant no more than four weeks. He knew full well that Mrs. Bennet would probably have a conniption fit when they announced their wedding to take place so soon but he didn't care and he knew that Elizabeth didn't care either. She was as anxious to start their lives together as he was. Never having been in love before, his passion for her threatened to overwhelm both of them and he could not...would not betray her trust in him. They must be married! The thought of wasting four or five months listening to Mrs. Bennet talking about satin and laces was too awful to contemplate and he would not have it.

Then he would have to speak to his solicitor. His property was so extensive that just gathering all the necessary papers and completing the marriage settlement might take a month at least.

And last, and far from least, there was the matter of an engagement gift. He wanted something special and had settled on a ring. Amethyst, the color of his true love's eyes, was what he wanted. His first gift to her would not come from the Darcy vaults but from his own heart and would be the beginning of their own history together. He wanted Elizabeth to know that she meant the world to him.

When they finally reached Netherfield he called for his carriage to be readied then immediately changed his mind. "No, ready my horse. No wait a minute! Ready my carriage. No, let me think for a minute."

Lady Catherine had never seen Darcy in love and it was a stunning revelation. He'd always appeared to her as a man devoid of deep emotion. At Kent he hadn't been able to tear his eyes from Elizabeth though he had successfully hidden his thoughts. To the unobservant he might have been a detached observer studying an insect...Mr. Collins came to mind. With long-suffering patience she stood by waiting for her nephew to make up his mind. Once he settled on the carriage in case Bingley or Peter were interested in a quick overnight trip to Town, she allowed, "I think perhaps you've been too long in the company of Mr. Bingley, Nephew."

"Pardon?"

She took his arm, "I just hope you remember where your house is."

"My house?"

Lady Catherine sighed, "Oh, never mind, just get me up those steps."

With great patience he did just that before he was free to chase through the house looking for his host.

He found Georgie and Bingley at a game of chess in the library with Peter as an amused observer. As a one time president of the chess club at Cambridge, Bingley wasn't doing too well. A quick glance at the board showed a loss of a queen, two rooks and a knight. Georgie was missing a couple of pawns and a rook. Darcy watched in disbelief as Bingley's next move put his bishop in harm's way.

Georgie giggled and took the the bishop, "checkmate! I must say, Mr. Bingley," she added with a straight face, " that your lessons have improved my game considerably."

When he didn't respond but continued to stare at the board, Peter leaned down, "Charles, the game is over. You lost."

"Did I? Well, good. Good!"

Georgie shook her head and stood to embrace Darcy, "how did it go?," she whispered.

"My aunt is an angel. She does not object," he whispered back. "And Mrs. Bennet wasn't too silly." The joy on his sister's face added to his happiness. "I'm off to Town for a quick trip. Elizabeth expects you and Anne to accompany her on a long walk tomorrow."

"Oh brother, I'm so happy for you. Will you think me too ridiculous when I tell you how I keep thinking of Christmas at Pemberley? We'll be a real family again."

"Think all you want about St. Nicholas. I prefer to think of St. Michaelmas. I've always wanted to be married in September."

Georgie threw her head back and laughed in pure joy, "really? I never knew."

Bingley jumped at the idea of a trip to town, "just what I need," he muttered. "Perhaps I can find a book on the use of nightshade."

Darcy glanced at Peter who shrugged, "I'll stay here and keep company with Richard when Miss De Bourgh is otherwise engaged. It will give you two a chance to have a nice talk," he added with a wry smile.

Within a half-hour of arriving back at Netherfield their carriage had moved through Meryton and had gained the road to London. Darcy immediately settled back and allowed his mind to drift back to Elizabeth and how soon they could be married, unaware of the smug smile on his face.

Bingley took it for ten minutes before he exploded, "would you please do me the honor of wiping that smirk off your face?"

Startled, Darcy eyed his friend with amusement, "gentlemen don't smirk."

"Then you are no gentleman!"

Darcy laughed hardily, "you see before you a very happy man, Bingley, and I'll smirk all I want."

"So you are to be married." It was a statement.

Darcy nodded, "I am to be married. And you? By the way you embarrassed yourself at the game board I assume you are in love too. How does your courtship go? I must say I'm surprised that you've left the field to Peter." He expected Bingley to protest loudly at his teasing remark but there was no response. "What is it, Charles? Have you been thinking again?"

"Trying to but my thoughts are as muddled as one of my letters."

"Without the ink blots, I hope."

Bingley shook his head, ignoring the sally, "I have no idea what's rolling around in my head. For that matter, I begin to doubt there's anything in my head. Darce, I swear I'm losing my mind."

"Come now, Charles, two months ago you thought you were dying, now you think you're losing your mind. I swear I can't keep up with you. If you love Miss Bennet, marry her and be done with it."

Bingley stared at his friend in disbelief, "didn't you hear anything Caroline said to your aunt last night? She referred to the inhabitants as barbarians! And she came dangerously close to talking about Miss Lydia Bennet with Georgie sitting at the table."

"I heard. I also heard you make your thoughts very clear to her last night. She could not misunderstand your meaning."

"Oh really? You think I put her in her place, do you?"

Darcy dismissed the sarcasm . "I thought you handled her very well. It would greatly surprise me if she stays at Netherfield much longer. She has to know that there is nothing here for her unless she turns her attention to Peter and I suspect she'd get short shrift from your friend."

"Forgive me, Darce, but you don't know what you're talking about. You've never had to deal with Caroline. When she gets into one of her moods you can just walk away. I, on the other hand, end up with indigestion before I've had my first slice of toast. You always have your life under complete control. You always set a course and nothing stands in your way. All I ever do is fumble and stumble and now I'm in such a mess I don't know what I'm going to do. How can I possibly ask Jane Bennet to marry me when my own sister refers to Jane's younger sister as that little whore?"

The words and the pained expression on his old friend's face shocked Darcy into momentary silence. "When did she say this?" he asked quietly.

"This morning. She asked me if I was going to visit the sister of that little..."

"No need to repeat the word, Charles. I understand perfectly."

"The situation is intolerable. She's my sister and I love her...at least I thought I did. Now I'm beginning to think that my affection is just a habit from childhood. How can I love a woman who is so cruel and heartless. What does it say about me?"

"It says you are a decent man, and my good friend. But you have to speak plainly to her or, to paraphrase Blake, you'll surely water your anger with fears, night and morning with your tears."

Bingley rolled his eyes, "oh for heaven's sake, Darcy. Speak prose. You know I'm like a thick plank when it comes to poetry."

Darcy laughed despite himself, thinking of how Elizabeth liked to tease him about his habit of spouting poetry. She'd gone so far as to suggest that he should have married her sister, Mary. Between Mary's homilies and his poetry, they would be the most sought after couple in London society. "It means, don't let your anger fester, Charles. Make it so perfectly clear how you feel about Miss Bennet that only the most obtuse individual would fail to understand your meaning."

"Obtuse would certainly describe Caroline. And if she doesn't listen to reason?"

"Then you will have to make a choice that will change your life forever. It will be up to you to determine where your happiness lies. You may think that I always set a course and never let anything stand in my way, but I've had to battle my own demons. It's been ingrained in me since childhood that my family always comes first. I was expected to marry for wealth. It was bad enough that I refused to marry Anne, but to choose a country girl who has no money or title...I feared a rift with my family. Once married, a man must not suffer divided loyalties. He must owe his wife and children his complete allegiance. That is a rule I hold inviolate. I knew that if my family couldn't accept my choice, there would be an estrangement that might never be healed. That was a terrifying thought."

"And have they accepted it?"

"It appears so. As a matter of courtesy and respect I asked my aunt for her approval and she granted it to me. This will go a long way with the rest of my relatives, but in any event, it's my life and no one can live my life for me, Charles. I can't conceive of a life without Elizabeth by my side. I've waited too long for her and I'd be a damned fool to forsake her because my family wanted me to marry money. I don't need any more money, but I need Elizabeth."

"And are you happy, Will"

"When I'm not frightened to death of my future wife, yes I am."

Bingley let out a hoot, "Will Darcy frightened? Of little Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy grinned at his friend's response, "little Miss Elizabeth is intelligent, clever and quick I'll have my hands full trying to keep a step ahead of her."

"And that's what you want?"

"I'll never be bored, Charles. Yes. She's exactly what I want and need in my life. You, on the other hand, require a more passive personality. No white water for you. A soft stream that will glide you gently through life."

"I wouldn't mind a few ripples, Darcy. It's the maelstroms that I fear."

"Just remember that it's useless to fear what you cannot avoid. You're too young to worry about death, but a dominating sister is almost as bad. If you want to control your own destiny, have it out with Caroline and be done with it. You won't regret it. Charles, I swear, I've never known such happiness. The only problem I'm having with my happiness is an unreasonable fear that something awful will happen to keep us apart."

Bingley laughed, "like someone objecting when you're standing at the altar?"

Darcy shook his head, "that's not funny, Charles. Last night I dreamt that it was Elizabeth who objected."

Bingley howled, "still the worrywart!"

Darcy sighed, "I will be so glad once I'm a married man and can have happier dreams. But now if you'll excuse me, I'm for a nap. Wake me up when we get to Town."

Back at Longbourn,

Thomas Bennet stayed with his wife until Mr. Barton, the local apothecary arrived and pronounced Frances Rose Gardiner Bennet truly dead. He opined that it was a case of apoplexy brought about by her well-known nerves. Mr. Bennet cared not about the cause of his wife's death but only the fact that his companion of the past twenty-four years would no longer be there as a foil to his teasing. He heard the wailing of Kitty and the soothing sounds of Jane as she tried to comfort her sister and he saw the stunned and dried-eyed look of his favorite daughter but he could only focus on the loss of the woman whom he had spent nearly half his life with. After a few quiet minutes in conference with Mr. Barton, he went to his study with orders not to be disturbed and locked the door behind him.

Mr. Barton, who had come as a very young man to the village of Meryton to ply his trade, dismissed all apologies from Elizabeth for the actions of her father, knowing full well that anger and guilt would soon follow as it always did with a sudden death. He was a good and kindly man who had known the Bennets of Longbourn for a good twenty years and had enjoyed Mrs. Bennet's table at least once a month during those years. He had also enjoyed poring over a chessboard with Mr. Bennet once a week where excellent brandy was never stinted. During those many evenings Mr. Bennet had spoken frequently of the time when decisions would have to be made concerning the disposition of the body no matter who died first. He was so adamant about the final arrangements he had taken the trouble to write them all down and these precise instructions were locked safely in Mr. Barton's safe.

Tom Bennet did not hold with the family washing down his naked corpse then displaying their handiwork in the drawing-room where all the neighbors could come and gawk. He wanted the removal of the body done as quickly as possible and his clothes disbursed to the needy. During these brandy-soaked evenings neither man had given a thought to the possibility that Mrs. Bennet would be the one to go first but rather, that upon her husband's demise she and their children would be thrown into the hedgerows to starve. Against this sad fruition of Mrs. Bennet's worst nightmares, her husband had been secretly depositing money in a separate account for years. Upon his death his family would not be left destitute and if she could manage to marry off all five of their offspring, she would be quite comfortable. But all his plans for the future of his family had come to naught. She had gone first and he was left in shock and disbelief.

Gently, Mr. Barton apprised Elizabeth of her father's wishes. She had heard her father's same views on death enough times that with relief she agreed and left the arrangements to their old family friend. When he left the house to consult with the local funeral director she went to the door of her father's study and called quietly, "Father?"

"Leave me Lizzie."

Wearily she climbed the stairs to her room and settled at her desk. Where to begin? With her aunt Phillips living in Meryton, she supposed that she should be informed of her sister's death first but for the moment, Elizabeth had not the heart or strength to do so. A message of that import would only bring her aunt and uncle and possibly their two daughters rushing to Longbourn to offer assistance and comfort and no doubt an histrionic display that Elizabeth was sure she could not cope with. When Mrs. Phillips learned that her very own sister would not lie in state at Longbourn so that her friends could pay their respects she would be livid and loud. The morning was soon enough for that trial and hopefully Darcy would be there to lend moral support.

Her letter to Mary was brief and close to the point of curtness but there was no soft way to tell her sister that their mother was dead. She knew that protocol demanded that she send this sad news to Mr. Collins so he could prepare this greatest of shocks to a woman's delicate sensibilities, however, she also knew that Mary had the constitution of a horse and would deal with it in her usual stoic manner. She could imagine how Mr. Collins would have broken the news to his wife with his excess verbiage covering his broken heart that the wrong Bennet had passed away. She did not expect Mary to travel back to Hertfordshire in her condition and she hoped Mr. Collins would stay at home musing over the injustice of it all.

The letter to the Gardiners had a completely different tone for she knew her adored aunt and uncle would both be genuinely distressed at the news and would be anxious to give solace to their nieces. Dispassionately she attempted to describe in detail the events that had transpired that day. Despite her best intentions she could not avoid the guilt seeping into the bare facts. Selfishly she had ignored all the signs that her mother was not well. There was the slight tremble of the right hand and the complaint of a terrible headache. She had attributed this to her mother's anger and frustration when things didn't go her way. Her mother's constant complaint of her nerves had dulled everyone's senses to what might be a serious illness but that was no excuse for not calling Mr. Barton. Meryton was too small to offer a living to a doctor but Mr. Barton had been attending to the ailments of the inhabitants for twenty years and might have understood the symptoms, might even have been able to offer her mother some relief that would have avoided this catastrophe. If only she had not cast a blind eye to the fact that her mother, always so astute when it came to her desperate desire to marry off her daughters, had not even seen what was going on between herself and Darcy while she chattered away at Lady Catherine. That in itself should have been a warning sign that all was not well.

Elizabeth laid down her pen, thinking of the last moments of her mother's life and how she had called for Lydia. Even then it might not have been too late to call Mr. Barton. Instead, she thought only of her own happiness and the joy it would bring when she imparted her news. She expected to take a slightly sadistic pleasure in relating how her mother's least favorite daughter would be the means of keeping the family from starving in the hedgerows. 'Turn all her mother's pains and benefits to laughter and contempt, that she may feel how sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child.'

Elizabeth sealed the letter. There were no messengers in Meryton who would be willing to make the ride to London after dark for less than triple the usual price and she was unwilling to have her uncle defray the cost. The letter would go out first thing in the morning so they would not read the news before noon on the morrow. That should give them time to arrange for the care of their children as well as for his business. She could not expect them to arrive in less than two days.

She considered writing a brief note to Darcy but could not find the words and decided he would hear of it soon enough. His presence, she suspected, would do more harm than good. She wanted nothing more than to escape Longbourn and seek solace in his arms. She could imagine herself begging him to take her away to Pemberley. She despised herself for these unnatural thoughts but they would intrude. Her virginal imaginings of Darcy no longer were just of his tenderness and humor but now included a passion to unite with his body, to possess his soul as he had captured hers. She ached for him and her mother's body was not yet cold. Added to her guilt was now shame.

She stood at her window watching dusk's arrival and the flickering lights of Meryton begin to glow, reminding her that outside in another world, life was moving on. Charlotte would be sitting down to dinner wondering what fate had in store for her. Her aunt Phillips would be thinking of what she should serve at her next whist party. Mrs. Long must be wondering how on earth she would ever marry off her twins. And William, her sweet William, was he thinking of her? Or was he gnashing his teeth trying to fend off Caroline Bingley? The thought brought a smile to Elizabeth's face remembering how she had accused him of leading poor Caroline on with his dimples and his hot denial until he realized that she was only teasing him. Thinking of how that moment had ended with a deep satisfying kiss that had left her shaken and yearning for so much more brought further wanton thoughts and she sighed in frustration mixed with a deep regret. Her mother would never know that the lilac gown she had chosen so carefully for her least favorite child had first attracted the handsome gentleman from Derbyshire. She wished she could turn the clock back and tell her how grateful she was for that sweet gift which was now leading her to such unimagined happiness. "Oh, mother", she sighed. "Please forgive me. I really did love you."

She turned from the window as Jane slipped into the room, "how's Kitty?"

"Asleep at last. And you, Lizzie?"

"In shock, full of remorse, regret, self-loathing and already missing her."

"Oh, Lizzie. What's happening to our family?"

"I think you'd have to ask a higher power for that answer, dearest Jane. I was just standing here remembering the night of my birthday when we were all together. I wasn't the happiest of women that night. Charlotte had left and I felt miserable missing her so. Kitty and Lydia were loud and boisterous and ate all my candy. And Mary...well, Mary was being Mary. You were off to London with aunt and uncle Gardiner the next day. I felt so lonely, so bored and so restless and dissatisfied There were seven of us and now we're down to four. I wish I had known how our lives would be so changed in just a few months. I might have appreciated us more. We may not have been a perfect family, but I'll miss the way we were."

"I remember that night and how proud mother was when you came down the stairs wearing your new gown."

"Was she?"

Jane smiled fondly at her sister, "Yes, Lizzie. Very proud. I was with her when she chose the fabric and that particular shade of lilac. I thought she would never make up her mind. She wanted a shade that would do justice to your eyes. Did you know that there are about a dozen shades of purple in our local shop? She took every bolt over to the window and cast her discerning eye over each of them. Then there was the pattern. The dress had to be chaste, but not too chaste. Daring but not too daring. A slight flare on the sleeves but not too flared. She did have a way of exhausting one."

Both sisters smiled at the recollection of their mother's shopping expeditions until suddenly there was the unmistakable sound of a carriage approaching through the gates. Elizabeth peered out the window and recognized the shape of a hearse. Quickly she bade Jane to see to Kitty in case their youngest sister awoke and realized what was happening.

Elizabeth kept watch at the window listening to the sounds of death being removed from their home until at long last a terrible stillness once again settled on Longbourn. Slowly she undressed and burrowed under the covers allowing her tears to find it's path to merciful sleep.

At Netherfield the following morning,

Mrs. Biggs was just sitting down with her first cup of coffee and a sweet roll fresh from the oven when she was handed a brief letter from her best friend, Mrs. Hill. Mrs. Biggs supposed it was confirmation of Lizzie Bennet's engagement to the handsome Mr. Darcy. 'Waste of good paper, Abbie', she thought to herself with a grin, savoring the excellent sweet roll. The entire house knew of the glad tidings from Longbourn. News of a wedding could spread like wildfire through a village, especially a love match which Mrs. Hill had affirmed was the case. Mrs. Biggs took a long drink of coffee, opened the letter and gasped in shock. Mrs. Bennet dead? Impossible! She read and re-read the note confirming the truth of it. She sat quietly trying to cope with the loss of Fanny Bennet and what her death would mean to the family and felt the tears start in compassion for the daughters she'd left behind and especially for Elizabeth who was a particular favorite of hers.

But as the housekeeper at Netherfield, Mrs. Biggs could not spare the time to dwell on her own sorrow for the Bennet family. She had to make known this news to the relevant party. But who would that be? By rights it should be Fitzwilliam Darcy but he was in Town. Then who? Early the previous morning she had heard a terrible row between Mr. Bingley and Miss Caroline. Shortly after, he had come to her to tell her that from that moment on, she was to seek Miss Louisa for any directions she needed in the running of the household. But to her way of thinking, Louisa Hurst was not the one who needed to be informed of the tragedy at Longbourn, it was Lady Catherine De Bourgh. Waking that lady before breakfast was ready to be served was not something Mrs. Biggs looked forward to, but she knew her duty. She summoned Lady Catherine's maid and asked for an audience with her mistress. Surprisingly, the maid didn't quiver and drop dead at her feet, but curtsied and disappeared back up the stairs.

Twenty minutes later she had gained entrance to Lady Catherine's boudoir. That formidable lady greeted the housekeeper with no sign of annoyance, only simple curiosity. "I assume, Mrs. Biggs, that what you have to tell me is of a serious nature?"

"Forgive me, Lady Catherine, but it is indeed. I've just gotten word from Longbourn that Mrs. Bennet has passed away."

Lady Catherine stared at the housekeeper trying to digest what she had just heard. "So there is no misunderstanding, are you saying that the mistress of Longbourn has died?"

"Yes, your ladyship. Miss Lizzie's...Miss Elizabeth's mother died last night."

"How?"

"I can't say. All I know is that shortly after your ladyship and Mr. Darcy left Longbourn yesterday Mrs. Bennet had some kind of spell. And then she died."

"I see. Well thank you, Mrs. Biggs, for informing me of this sad news. I'll tell my daughter and niece. I suppose it's up to you to tell Mrs. Hurst or Miss Bingley."

Alone again Lady Catherine sat in quiet reflection feeling a keen sadness for the family she hardly knew. As a mother herself, she felt an empathy for the poor woman who would now never know that at least one of her daughters had done her proud. And Elizabeth? How was she dealing with this tragedy? She supposed she had best get dressed and go to Longbourn. Convention called for only cards and letters to be left at a house of bereavement. No one but close members or the dearest friends of the family would be admitted to a house in mourning. She was neither, but still, somehow she must advise Elizabeth that Darcy had gone to Town and would not return until late that afternoon and a brief note would appear too cold. A heavy sigh escaped her as she considered the vagaries of life and how life had a way of taking so many twisted paths. From delirious joy to crushing misery in the blink of an eye. It was a wonder that anyone survived their own existence. An excellent reason for making the most of it.

At the east wing of Netherfield,

Louisa stood at her sister's door taking deep breaths willing herself to be strong and not let Caroline best her in the confrontation that was about to take place. The memory of her brother's face as he related just what Caroline had said to him was still etched in her mind. That she would have the nerve to couple the name of that sweet-natured Jane Bennet with the dissolute and wanton behavior of the youngest Bennet sister was beyond the pale and could no longer be endured. Louisa was thoroughly ashamed of Caroline and was determined to keep an image of her brother's face in her mind through the ordeal of reasoning with her sister.

To her great surprise, her sister was actually out of bed though it was not yet ten o'clock. Otherwise, it was the same Caroline sitting at her dressing table staring at her reflection. This in itself was nothing unusual but it was the look of utter sadness on Caroline's face that caught Louisa's attention. "I assume your maid has been busy and you've heard the news?" Louisa asked.

Caroline nodded, "I've been sitting here remembering the day we heard that our own mother had died. Do you remember that day?"

"How could I not? I thought the cook would faint when you called father a liar, that mother was too young to die."

"Did you know that for weeks I was angry at her for being so careless for dying and leaving us when we still needed her?"

Louisa refrained from commenting on just how vocal Caroline had been in her anger, "Yes, Carrie, I remember."

"It's a terrifying thought that just a few nights ago that woman accosted me at the assembly, bleating about the plumes in my hat... and now she lies dead."

"It does make you think of your own mortality."

"No doubt she died of shock when she learned of her daughter's engagement."

"You're all charity, Caroline."

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Lou, but you're right. I should not have said that. Nor should I have hurt Charles the way I did yesterday. I doubt if he'll ever forgive me."

"He will eventually."

"It will be hardest on the youngest girl. Darcy and Charles will be back in a few hours and will comfort Elizabeth and Jane, but Kitty will have no one."

Louisa sat in stunned silence hardly able to comprehend the direction her planned confrontation was going. She half expected Caroline to be gleeful over the misery that had descended on Longbourn. Instead, she seemed to be honestly sympathetic. Caroline never failed to surprise.

"One night you asked me to look in the mirror and take a hard look at myself," Caroline continued. "Last night I did just that. I made a serious mistake in coming to Netherfield. If I had stayed in Town I might have avoided the humiliation I brought upon myself. I've lost what I never had and my defeat is complete. Mrs. Bennet's death put the final nail in my coffin. I'm done for." Finally she turned from the mirror and faced Louisa. "I've decided to visit aunt Estelle. Shropshire will give me some distance which I need right now. Then I may make a trip abroad."

"I think that would be for the best, Carrie. How long will you be gone?"

"I have no idea. Months...years...my plans are not fixed. I just know I have to get away before they return from Town. I can't face either of them."

"Will you write?"

"Of course."

"Should I worry about you, Carrie?"

Caroline managed a wry smile, "no, but you might worry about the next eligible man I meet. Perhaps I'll do better the next time."

Louisa's relief was intense but with this emotion came regret and sadness, and if she dared admit it, guilt that she hadn't been able to do more for her sister. But she could not dwell on her failure with Caroline. She had to think of Charles and what Caroline's leaving would mean to him. In her heart she knew that it would have been preferable for Charles to deal with his sister, but she would not argue with success. If he was really serious about Jane Bennet there was now no impediment to his pursuit of her. And as for her own husband, bless him, he would now be free of his obnoxious sister-in-law. He had been the best of men allowing Caroline to live with them for so long. Even after Charles had bought his own townhouse, Caroline spent half her time with the Hursts and Louisa couldn't remember the last time that she had traveled with her husband without suffering the company of that third party. All that was about to change and she felt her joy begin to rise just thinking of it. For a moment she felt that odious guilt rear it's ugly head again but it was fleeting and with a broad grin on her face, she sped downstairs to apprise Hurst of their coming joy and to enjoy an excellent breakfast.


	23. RESOLUTIONS

As to be expected, the morning following Mrs. Bennets's sudden death brought little relief to the inhabitants of Longbourn. Elizabeth awoke early and left her bed still half asleep. Quietly she slipped down the hall to her mother's room and gently opened the door hoping she'd find her mother resting comfortably. Instead, she found her father sitting by his wife's empty bed. He didn't acknowledge her presence nor did she break the silence before she closed the door behind her.

In Kitty's room she found Jane up and dressed, staring off in the direction of Netherfield Park and her younger sister in a deep exhausted sleep. "Did you sleep at all, Jane?"

"Some. It's very hard on Kitty. First Lydia, now mother. She feels abandoned."

"And you, Jane? How are you faring."

"I keep waiting for mother to storm into my room to see if my choice of dress will be enticing enough to elicit a proposal from Mr. Bingley."

Elizabeth nodded in understanding, "I actually went to her room hoping it was all a dream, but all I found was father sitting by her bed. She's truly gone, Jane."

"How is father?"

"I think he's saying his good-byes to her. I think he was rather fond of her in his own way."

"Twenty-four years is a long time."

"Yes, well, I'll get dressed before aunt Phillips descends on us."

Blessedly, Charlotte Lucas was the first to arrive and be admitted to the house. None of the usual banalities were offered for comfort, only a brief embrace.

After inquiring after Jane and Kitty and told that they were above stairs and were likely to stay there until the arrival and departure of their aunt Phillips, Charlotte simply nodded, "I'm sure that's for the best. And your father? How is he coping?"

Elizabeth briefly described the scenes that had taken place the night before, "then he locked himself in his study. This morning I found him in mother's room."

"Men seem to take the death of a spouse as a personal affront to their masculinity."

Elizabeth smiled, "Charlotte, the things you say at times."

Charlotte returned her friend's smile, "think on it, Lizzie. Men rule the world. They are omnipotent. They're brought up short when they realize they can't control everything."

"That smacks of bitterness, Charlotte."

"Possibly. But speaking of men, Lizzie, I expected to see Mr. Darcy here. Does he know of your trouble?"

"Not from me. I had no heart for it last night, and by now he must have heard the news."

"He may be upset that you didn't inform him. Don't forget, you are now under his protection. He will expect you to turn to him in any crisis."

"There was nothing he could do."

"That won't matter, Lizzie. You belong to him now. And from the way he looks at you I suspect you will be his most precious possession. He will have a need to comfort you in all things. Don't deny him this privilege or you will suffer for it."

"Oh, Charlotte, you're making me feel guilty and I'm suffering enough guilt. Mother not yet buried and all I can think of is him. That has to be unnatural, but I love him so much. When I'm with him I'm gloriously happy and when I can't see or touch him I'm in the depths of despair. What a wretch I am. Can there be anything worse than being in love?"

"I have no idea but perhaps unrequited love would come close."

Elizabeth stared at her friend remembering the misery that had engulfed her when she left Kent thinking she would never see Darcy again. She had never told Charlotte or anyone else how she felt. A sudden thought crossed her mind as she regarded her friend...but it faded quickly with the sound of a carriage arriving.

Moments later in the guise of a terrifying specter Mrs. Edwina Phillips blew into Longbourn. Where she had come by so many black veils in so short a time, Elizabeth would never know, but came she did enshrouded in heavy veiling that completely obscured her face.. "Where is she, Lizzie? Lead me to her." At Elizabeth's brief response, she threw off her veils revealing a face distorted by anger and disbelief. Elizabeth watched in horror as her aunt took a deep breath and began to wail loud enough to raise the dead, but that was nothing compared to her shrill and accusatory outrage directed at her brother-in-law. Warming up to the subject she charged the absent Mr. Bennet of having no regard for her poor sister, of always treating her with disrespect, and he would burn in hell for this latest offense against common decency. "By the way, where is my brother-in-law? I would speak to him this minute."

"He's taking a long walk, Aunt Phillips," she lied.

"How like him," she snarled. "Neglecting his duty as usual. Oh, what my sister suffered all those years. And why aren't you dressed in black? And where are Jane and Kitty? And have you notified my brother?"

"I have, Aunt Phillips, but I don't expect the Gardiners until tomorrow."

"And why is that? Why should that be?"

"Because he must arrange his business and see to the children before he can leave Town."

"This is his family," she spat.

While Elizabeth groped for a response to this silly observation, Charlotte stood and embraced the woman, "dear Mrs. Phillips. This must be such a shock for you, but don't you think you should go to the funeral parlor? All your friends will be paying their respects and as the chief mourner, you really should be there to greet them. They will be sorely disappointed not to see you there."

Mrs. Phillip's eyes widened, "why...why I never thought of that. Dear Charlotte, how clever you are to think of that. I must be away."

The entire dreaded visit lasted no more than twenty minutes and Elizabeth sighed in relief, "what would I do without you, Charlotte?"

"It was my pleasure, Dear Lizzie," Charlotte replied, "a little of your aunt goes a long way."

In the merciful silence that remained after her aunt's departure Elizabeth kept vigil at the window for the first sign of Darcy. She was sorely disappointed when Darcy had yet to make his appearance unable to fathom why he hadn't done so. She had developed an annoying habit of worrying herself sick when he didn't show up when he was expected. In her darkest moments she imagined that he had fallen from his horse and lay dying in those damnable hedgerows. In lighter moments, he had succumbed to Caroline Bingley's arts and allurements and was heading to Gretna Green.

When Jane and Kitty entered the room Elizabeth's heart went out to her younger sister. Kitty was having a hard time dealing with all the changes in her life. The loss of Lydia who had been her closest companion for so many years, had been hard enough but now with the sudden death of her mother she felt forsaken. With Elizabeth's engagement, she would be next to go. Then Jane was sure to follow. She would be left to the tender mercies of a father who was more of a stranger to her than not. Elizabeth's gentle embrace brought a new spate of weeping and sniffles and Jane handed her a new supply of handkerchiefs.

At the window once more, Elizabeth watched in acute disappointment as the next carriage to arrive contained not Darcy, but his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She had to steady her nerves as Lady Catherine stepped from her coach, expecting the worst of news. She was positive that Darcy was dead. Nothing else could possibly account for his desertion.

Lady Catherine allowed herself to be introduced to Charlotte, Jane and Kitty before offering her sincere apologies for intruding on their sorrow. "I felt I must come to personally advise you that my nephew left for Town after our visit yesterday. His main purpose was to procure a special license for your marriage. I assure you he knows nothing of these tragic events." Lady Catherine spared a glance at Jane, who indeed looked like the angel she had heard so much about. "Mr. Bingley accompanied him."

"You're very kind, your Ladyship," Elizabeth replied, steadying herself. "I...I had wondered where he was."

"Of course you did, child. And may I inquire after your father?"

"He keeps to mother's room, but he'll be alright. We all will be."

Darcy had advised her of how lackadaisical their father was when it came to both his wife and children. She could not imagine how he was dealing with death. She sincerely hoped that Mister Bennet had not abrogated his responsibilities leaving his two eldest daughters to deal with it. As for the younger girl, Kitty, she was obviously useless with her constant sniveling. "Your father and sister are lucky to have you and your eldest sister. And I'm sure you're both lucky to have Miss Lucas here." She acknowledged Charlotte with a smile. She reached into her reticule and handed Elizabeth two letters, "from Anne and Georgiana. They both wanted to accompany me but I advised against it for the time being. They are both anxious to see you again and meet the rest of your family. Georgiana was already planning to decorate Pemberley with half the pine trees on the estate hoping you love to keep Christmas as much as she does."

Elizabeth smiled, "you may tell Georgie that I do. It was our mother's favorite holiday."

This remark spawned another spate of weeping and sniffles from the wretched Kitty which drew Lady Catherine's attention. "My niece is just about your age, Miss Kitty, and looks forward to making your acquaintance. She knows few girls her own age and hopes you and she will be very good friends." Turning back to Elizabeth, "I can assure you that their love and prayers are with you all, Elizabeth. And I'm quite sure that my nephew will be back by tea time." At the door she had one more bit of information to offer Kitty. "I knew a young lady who's red and swollen nose stayed with her a lifetime. She never married. So very sad." It had the effect Lady Catherine had hoped for when Kitty stopped in midsniff. "Good day Miss Bennet, Elizabeth, Miss Kitty, Miss Lucas."

Her abrupt arrival and departure left Charlotte eying Elizabeth with some amusement, "so that's the formidable Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

"In the flesh."

"I rather like her."

"So do I.

On the road from London,

Darcy's coach had been stopped by an overturned carriage. By the time the road was cleared they had lost almost forty minutes. Impatient to see Elizabeth and Jane they decided to go straight to Longbourn. Bingley had made up his mind to speak with Mr. Bennet and deal with Caroline later. Darcy was anxious to place his ring on Elizabeth's hand so that the world knew that she now belonged to him. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since he had laid eyes on Elizabeth and he was offering a silent prayer that he would have a few private moments with her before Mrs. Bennet descended on him with her congratulations and a wedding list. His sardonic thoughts brought a smile to his face which Bingley immediately noticed. "You're not going to smirk again, are you Darce?"

"After talking to Mr. Bennet, you'll be smirking too."

"Then you think he will not object?"

"Of course he won't object. I'm sure he will be delighted to get rid of such a troublesome lass as your Miss Jane Bennet."

"What?"

Darcy rolled his eyes, "Bingley when you speak to Mr. Bennet, try not to flail your arms about. Watching your imitation of a fledgling ostrich trying to fly is quite diverting but might cause Mr. Bennet to question your mental stability."

Bingley sighed, "I hope I'll be smirking when Jane's father finishes with me. Do you have any suggestions on how I should approach this ordeal?

"Of course. Don't flail, smirk, stammer, giggle or make any rude noises. If he suddenly throws open his study window, you had better leave immediately and try another day once the air is cleared."

Bingley laughed despite himself, "thank you so much."

"Glad to be of help."

The moment the carriage pulled to a stop Darcy opened the door and not waiting for the footman to lower the steps vaulted down and stopped only to brush off his trousers and to straighten his cravat. Bingley tried to follow his friend but was blocked for a moment by Darcy so he was the first to see what now hung on the heavy door that gained entrance to Longbourn. His involuntary cry of distress called Darcy's attention and with horror Darcy lifted his eyes and saw the black wreath adorning the door. His first thought was of Elizabeth and he felt his heart stop. Behind him he heard Bingley call out Jane's name. The moment would forever be etched in the memories of both men as the door swung open and Elizabeth appeared, followed by Jane. Bingley pushed past Darcy and ran towards Jane and took both her hands in his. More slowly, Darcy approached Elizabeth taking in her white, stricken face, "who?" he asked.

"Mother," she whispered before he took her into his arms desperate to absorb her pain, remembering the agony of losing his own mother. He asked no questions but remained silent holding her in a gentle embrace feeling her hand slowly move up to the back of his neck before she kissed his cheek and murmured his name softly. Hearing his name on her lips intensified his longing to bring her comfort and he drew her closer willing her soul to find peace in his arms until she leaned back and gazed deep into his eyes, searching and finding all her tomorrows.

From his vantage point at the second floor window, Mr. Bennet watched his two most deserving daughters and he too saw all their tomorrows. He didn't hold with the mourning conventions expected of the masses. The fact was, he didn't much believe in any of the conventions that London society imposed on England's population. The town's poverty and degradation of the poor was rampant, thieves ran amok and the city stank during the summer months when the river Thames became an open sewer. As if that wasn't bad enough, the King was a raving lunatic and the Prince Regent a fat slob who was eating and drinking himself to an early grave. Mr. Bennet had no respect for his sovereigns and even less for the governing councils who's decrees were said to have been created for the betterment of the people. If they couldn't manage their own narrow society, who were they to dictate his?

His two eldest daughters had been blessed when they had found two respectable young men who found them irresistible. This should be the period of great happiness with no other thought than the many joys awaiting them as their lives changed forever. Instead their joy had turned to black cloth and ashes and he could not permit such misery to envelope his daughter's happiness. He wasn't sure of the rules governing an engagement interrupted by a death of a mother, but he could not envision either of his daughters waiting a year or even six months. Being a man of just seven and forty there were still some things he hadn't forgotten from his youth. Lust was one of them. He didn't equate lust with Bingley, for that young man's embrace of Jane mirrored more the gentle spirit that so well matched that of his eldest daughter. Darcy was a horse of a different color. His passion matched perfectly his outward appearance of strength and power. Where Bingley exhibited warmth, Darcy displayed a depth of heat that might have frightened most women. There was no question in his mind that Fitzwilliam Darcy was an honest and trustworthy young man but lust had been the undoing of many a trustworthy man and seeing his favorite daughter's reaction to him when Darcy embraced her bore witness to just how much passion lay between them.

He turned from the window overwhelmed with a deep sadness, but a philosophical acceptance that change was a part of life. With Elizabeth and Jane gone he would never again hear a sensible word unless he took charge of his remaining child and Lydia's faithful follower seemed a hopeless case. But he supposed he should at least try. "Oh, Fanny," he sighed. "couldn't you have waited a few more years?" With one last look at his wife's cold bed he left the room and returned to his own quarters where he finally found a deep sleep that would see him through the night.

To the relief of his three remaining daughters, Mr. Bennet joined them in the breakfast room the following morning. They were now dressed in their freshly dyed black dresses of mourning and he eyed them with distaste. "And how long must I be subjected to dining with three black crows?" he asked.

"A full year," cried Kitty between sniffles. "Mother would hate to see me in black. Black is for old women."

"Unfortunately, your mother is not here, Kitty, in case you haven't noticed. And Lizzie, what do you suppose your Mr. Darcy will think of your new fashion?"

"He hasn't seen me wearing...my new fashion...yet."

"Well, not to worry. From what I observed of your greeting yesterday, he won't care what you're wearing. And you, Jane? Do you have anything to tell me?"

Jane blushed prettily, "Mr. Bingley wishes to have a word with you, Father. But he knows this is not the time."

"On the contrary. There will never be a good time to lose another daughter, however, I am inclined to see him. If he arrives before the Gardiners, tell him I'm at his disposal. Once your uncle Gardiner arrives, I'll be busy for the rest of the afternoon." His eyes were drawn to the empty chair at the other end of the table. All those years of not so silent worrying about the future of her children and now dreams even beyond her vivid imagination were coming true. Two fine men of great wealth had come to deliver her from all anxiety and she would miss it all. "Elizabeth, Jane...I'm not sure how your mother would have handled your courtships, though I can guess. However, now that she is no longer here, you will be guided by my principles. I expect you both to display a little more circumspection when showing affection for your young men. I would suggest that the back garden will be more appropriate in the future."

"And what shall I do?" cried Kitty, feeling left out. "Must I hide in the back garden too?"

Mr. Bennet leveled a look at his youngest, "be not alarmed Kitty. It so happens that I have a plan for you. For the next few months you will be under my guidance. Though it may kill both of us, I am determined to teach you how to comport yourself with a modicum of sense. If by spring you have managed to speak and behave in a reasonable fashion for at least an hour a day, you will be greatly rewarded."

"What kind of reward?"

Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes and left the room.

"What kind of a reward do you think it will be, Lizzie?"

"Kitty, I think you should not concern yourself with the reward as much as the guidance father has promised you and just pray you survive the experience."

A half-hour later Charles Bingley rapped on Mr. Bennet's door. In his anxiety he neglected to wait for a reply before entering and stepping briskly to Mr. Bennets desk. "Mr. Bennet," he began.

"Yes, that's me. But surely you know that already, Mr. Bingley."

Bingley blinked, "Mr. Bennet," he began again.

"Yes, yes. We've established that I am Mr. Bennet. And who are you?"

"I...I'm Charles Bingley."

"Ah, yes. Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Bingley was determined not to flap his arms, "I wish to marry your daughter."

Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair and smiled, "really? I'm sure Kitty will be delighted."

Bingley's eyes widened before taking a deep breath and allowed a smile of his own. "I love your daughter, Miss Jane Bennet, with all my heart. I beg you to relieve my suffering and consent to our marriage."

For a brief moment Mr. Bennet considered the young man, pleased to know that he had a sense of humor and that Mr. Collins would continue to hold the title of stupidest son-in-law in the country. "Alright, Mr. Bingley, you have my consent and blessing.. Welcome to the family."

"It is my honor, Sir."

As it happened, Mr. Bennet had not abrogated all his responsibilities as Lady Catherine had feared. His instructions so painstakingly written years earlier and so precise left little to think of in regards to his wife's final arrangements. It was left only to relay these matters to Mr. Gardiner which he did so with little ceremony upon his brother-in-law's arrival. Mr. Gardiner, always sensible and nothing like either of his sisters, agreed to everything with rapidity. During the summer months it was imperative to dispose of a body quickly...the alternative was to place her on a slab of ice...and this was unacceptable to both men. It simply prolonged the inevitability and to their way of thinking lacked decorum and respect. It was only her earthly remains, after all, for the essence of the woman who had been wife and sister was gone and had been so for almost forty-eight hours.

He also apprised Mr. Gardiner of Elizabeth's and Jane's betrothals. "Henry, I cannot see my daughter's happiness ruined by this event. As much as I'd like to, I can't keep them here forever and their hearts no longer reside here at Longbourn but with two very fine men. They've done their mother proud and I'm truly saddened that she won't be here to see them marry, but I will not see them dressed in sack cloth to mourn their mother for the next twelve months." He allowed a wry smile, "Fanny would be horrified to see her daughters dressed in the color of death."

Henry Gardiner returned the smile, "indeed. She would be most anxious to have her girls married before the two fine men changed their mind. So what do you suggest?"

"This is a small village and if the girls don't comply with the rules of mourning they will stand a good chance of being shunned. The good people of Meryton ignored Lydia's escapade but I don't think they would tolerate seeing the girls dressed in colors and dancing the night away. They're good girls and deserve the joys of a courtship and I won't deny them that pleasure. I've been giving it a lot of thought, wondering how Fanny would have dealt with it. I'll have to speak to their two love-sick swains in the next few days, but somehow the girls have to be removed from Longbourn. Mr. Bingley has a married sister. She and her husband reside in London. If she agrees, Jane could stay with them until her marriage. If you would take in Elizabeth, a heavy load would be lifted from my shoulders."

"Agreed. And if they object, we'll take both girls in."

"Then, there is the matter of their marriages. We are two men of the world, Henry, and I think we both know the dangers of too long a courtship. With special licenses they can be married anywhere they choose without the banns being read, and at anytime. Meryton is out of the question which leaves your church or a church in Derbyshire. But we'll leave that to them. Agreed?"

"I can see you've been giving this situation much thought."

Unashamedly, Thomas Bennet admitted that he had spent most of the previous day in his wife's chambers seeking her counsel. "Your sister might have been the silliest woman in England but she did know how to twist rules to suit her purpose and I simply asked her what she would have done if I had been the first to go."

Mr. Gardiner laughed with good nature, "Yes, God love her, she did have a way of making sense occasionally. Shall we drink to it?"

Mr. Bennet poured them both a glass of Port, "thank you, Henry. I knew I could count on you. And for your reward, I understand that Mr. Darcy's estate stocks a variety of fish that should gladden the heart of any sportsman worth his salt."

Once her father and uncle left for the Meryton church to finalize the brief service for the next day Elizabeth sat down with her aunt Gardiner and began to relay all that had been happening with her mother since her return from Kent. Maddie Gardiner listened patiently while her niece listed a litany of sins she had committed starting with the horrible things she had said to Lydia which in her mind had caused her sister's defection, and ending with the final confrontation which she was sure had hastened her mother's death. "Aunt Maddie, I never knew my mother. You should have heard her telling me about all her dreams, her longings. She was so unhappy, Aunt."

Once Elizabeth ran out of words of guilt and remorse, Mrs. Gardiner considered how she might ease Elizabeth's conscience. After a moment's reflection she decided that only the truth would serve. "Did she tell you about the villa on the lake?"

"Yes."

"Did she tell you how much she loved Italy except for the fact that there so many Italians living there?"

"What?"

"France was not much better with all those French people speaking in a foreign language."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that she was speaking about your father's dreams, not hers." Mrs. Gardiner sighed, "oh, Lizzie. Think about it. Did she ever once voice a desire to visit a museum? An art gallery? The only thing I ever heard her say about Paris, was how beautifully dressed the ladies were. As for Italy she loved strolling on the piazzas seeing and being seen. I don't know what was going through her mind those last days, but I can assure you that it was your father's dream to return to Italy and buy a small villa, not your mother's. In the early years of their marriage...when they still hoped for a son...I heard your father speak often of his desire to finish his days in the sun. He even spoke of a small villa near a lake somewhere near Florence. He dreamed of returning and buying the villa...but Lizzie, he stopped talking about it years ago. Why your mother would speak about it after all this time is hard to fathom unless she felt guilty about not giving him a son that would realize his dreams and in her mind it eventually came to be her dream and not your father's. I'm really at a loss to explain it."

"Her last words were for Lydia."

"So you said. And I suppose you thought it was because she loved Lydia the best, but perhaps it was her desire to call Lydia back from a life of misery. It might have been her final prayer. Did it never occur to you that she had her own guilt to contend with? She had to have known that she was at least partially responsible for Lydia's defection."

'Do you think she knew she was dying?"

"No one knows anything about the final act of life, Lizzie. My own mother simply went to sleep and then she was gone. From what you've told me, your mother did the same. Elizabeth, everyone feels guilty when someone dies. I think it's because so many words were left unspoken and you tend to remember only the anger and not the laughter. Above all things, she wanted you girls to be happy. It was her only goal in life. Mourn her loss and miss her presence, but don't let guilt of the past destroy the happiness of your future. Don't forget that from now on you're not just one, but two. Consider how your Mr. Darcy must be feeling his own guilt as he wonders what the death of your mother will mean to his own dreams. These coming days should be full of joy... don't bury them in regret."

"I'll try, Aunt, I really will. It's just that as much as our mother annoyed me with her silliness, I feel that our guiding light has gone out."

As the news of Mrs. Bennet's death spread through Meryton and it's environs it became clear that she would be sorely missed. The next two assembly dances were canceled and out of respect for Mrs. Bennet and her family, large dinner parties were postponed indefinitely. Dozens of condolence cards were left at Longbourn with many whispers of sorrow to Mrs. Hill who promised to relay their sentiments to the family.

Mrs. Bennet was laid to rest in a simple but brief ceremony attended by Mr. Bennet, Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Phillips. Rules pertaining to funerals were vague but on one point were inviolate. Women were strictly forbidden to attend so out of respect for their future wives, Darcy and Bingley also attended.

Lady Catherine and Georgiana Darcy as well as Richard and Anne were already making plans to return to Town. Though Darcy had encouraged a short visit to Longbourn, Georgie and Anne had made it very brief for they were both constrained by the tragic circumstances. It was beyond their experience to show their joy at Elizabeth's betrothal when there was such an air of sorrow permeating Longbourn. It didn't help with Kitty's constant weeping. They were never able to grasp whether Elizabeth's young sister was bewailing the death of her mother or her misery at having to wear black for the next twelve months.

Peter saw no reason to stay any longer at Netherfield. It had been a merry party despite Caroline Bingley for even she had added merriment, albeit, unwittingly. During his brief stay he'd felt his melancholia lift and realized that his reclusive life might have done him more harm than good. It had only been an act of courtesy to accept the invitation from Bingley, but he now found that meeting so many interesting people had done him a world of good and he was sorely disappointed to have to leave Netherfield. Darcy and Bingley needed space and he would only be in the way. Before leaving Hertfordshire he visited the various families he'd met during his brief sojourn to thank them for their hospitality but to his regret was never able to catch Charlotte Lucas at home or in her favorite orchard. He considered visiting Longbourn where he knew he would find her but felt too shy to invade a house of sorrow. Of all the people he'd met, Charlotte Lucas had proved the most delightful. He thought perhaps she had been able to see beneath his wry way of looking at the world to see the sadness that he tried to conceal. She had a way of listening to what he meant rather than what he said. She also had a way of making him laugh and he would miss her companionship. Mrs. Bennet's sudden death reminded him of his own mother's frail health and he decided to spend the rest of the summer visiting with her in Town before returning to his estate in Nottinghamshire.

Having already apprised his daughters of his plans for their courtship, Darcy and Bingley were not surprised when a few days after Mrs. Bennet was laid to rest, they were called into Mr. Bennet's study where he laid out his plan for the next three months. During the meeting both men studied their future father sensing his sadness. They could not imagine what Mr. Bennet must be feeling. He had just lost his wife and now he was in the process of giving away his two daughters. A family of two, down from seven in just seven months. Darcy's respect grew for this man who was determined to make Elizabeth and Jane's period of mourning as painless as possible. There were no caustic witticisms, no remarks that might make the two young men uneasy, only his solemn views on how they might combine mourning with courtship. When he was done speaking he invited any suggestions his future sons might have.

Bingley was the first to speak, "Mr. Bennet, I've already spoken to my sister Louisa and she is perfectly willing to take in both Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth. She knows Mrs. Gardiner has four children and there are only two of them at the Hurst townhouse. She has also advised me that she will be happy to hostess any family gatherings as well as escort them to the different shops. She knows Miss Elizabeth will need to purchase a wardrobe more fitting for the harsher climate of Derbyshire."

"That's welcome news, Mr. Bingley."

Darcy spoke up, "my cousin Anne and sister Georgianna are also eager to help in any way they can."

Mr. Bennet nodded, "all I require is discretion. Family dinners and walks in the park with other family members are acceptable but absolutely no public appearances until you are married. I know how the Ton loves to speculate and I don't want any gossip to reach Meryton if at all possible. There's been enough talk about the Bennet family and I have their younger sister to consider."

"My sister Georgianna would be delighted to have Miss Kitty visit her at our townhouse. She's eager to make friends with her new sister."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I will consider that in a month or so. For the present, I wish to spend more time with Kitty. As for your marriages, I suggest sometime in November. That should give you plenty of time to prepare for the weddings and still allow time to return to Pemberley and settle down before the holidays if that is agreeable."

After a week of quiet meetings in the back garden Darcy and Bingley left for London followed two days later by Elizabeth and Jane. Their courtships followed the strict rules laid down by Mr. Bennet and neither couple had suffered nor deviated from it. Their families had given them plenty of space to reach a deeper understanding of each other. On the surface they were strictly chaperoned but with a careless eye and ample time to exchange the timeworn murmurs of affection and stolen kisses. Their family gatherings furthered their happiness for everyone seemed to be in league with each other to make this precious time one of great joy despite the necessity for Elizabeth and Jane having to be far from their own home. They both missed the companionship of old friends but as the weeks slipped closer to the time when they would commit to each other they found new friends in Darcy and Bingley's families and they were both well-pleased.

Elizabeth had always assumed that Darcy had money on a level with Mr. Bingley. She had visited Netherfield in the distant past when it had been occupied by a family who's children were near her age so she knew what to expect in a fine house. However, she was overwhelmed when she first stepped foot in Darcy's townhouse. As she stared up at the two grand staircases that encircled the large foyer and led to the rooms above she felt her heart quicken and spoke before she realized that the words had actually left her lips. "I think I need some of mother's smelling salts." In the brief silence that followed, she turned a stricken face to the Gardiners.

"I think you'll also need a map," was her aunt's amused response. It was the first time Elizabeth had mentioned her mother in less than somber tones and Mrs. Gardiner was pleased to see that her niece had begun the healing process.

Six weeks later Mr. Bennet arrived with a dried-eyed and composed Kitty who contained her excitement in what her father deemed as more appropriate than joyous shrieks. With cautions still fresh in her ears, Kitty was determined not to be sent back to Longbourn in disgrace. She had exchanged several letters with Georgianna and had been promised shopping trips as well as at least two nights at the theatre with Richard and Anne. Furthermore, she had been admonished never to utter Lydia's name. Her fervent wish to please her father brought to her a new awareness of what was acceptable behavior for a young lady and her desire to win his approval was now her purpose in life. This decision would have far-reaching consequences for both father and daughter though as they entered Darcy's townhouse, neither could possibly have imagined it's happy conclusion.


	24. MOVING ON

Near dusk on the night before their weddings Elizabeth and Jane returned to Longbourn. It was a particularly poignant moment for Elizabeth as their carriage pulled to a stop before the only home she had ever known. The old house held the memories of a lifetime and she felt compelled to bid it a fond farewell not knowing when she would ever see it again. It seemed like a fitting conclusion to her childhood. And too, she wanted to say her final goodbyes to her mother.

They had been given the option of marrying in the Gardiner church or the chapel at the Pemberley estate but after much consideration, she and Jane had decided they would prefer to marry in the small church where they had been christened and where their mother laid at rest in the old churchyard. No invitations had been sent as it was to be a private ceremony. Respecting the need to keep the wedding ceremony as discreet as possible the Gardiners remained in London and though the Phillips had been notified, Mrs. Phillips knew how to hold a grudge. She had not yet forgiven Mr. Bennet's cavalier treatment of her sister's death so did not respond to the invitation. Mary was a new mother and could not chance the long journey back to Hertfordshire and Charlotte had gone down to Surrey to keep company with a sister-in-law who's confinement was proving difficult. Though their wedding would be less auspicious than their mother would have planned, Elizabeth had no cause to repine for she cared nothing at all for the trappings of the ceremony but only for what it would mean at it's conclusion. She would be joined in holy wedlock to a man of her own choosing and had no doubt of the felicity their marriage would bring.

During a subdued dinner the four remaining Bennets spoke quietly in a desultory manner steering clear of the past. Two months had passed and their separate pains had eased proving that time indeed healed most wounds. Guilt had been assuaged somewhat and most of the tears had dried. After dinner Mr. Bennet went to his study and Kitty retired to her room. A quiet word with Jane and she too climbed the stairs leaving Elizabeth alone to make her final farewell to Longbourn.

In the long suffering music room she could almost believe she could still hear Mary hammering away at the pianoforte determined to be the the most accomplished girl in Hertfordshire. Poor Mary. She had tried so hard to make up for her lack of beauty but had concentrated on the mechanics too much and had never felt the music. In many respects, her music had mirrored her choice in life. She wanted to be a wife and the mistress of her own household and had accomplished her goal at the tender age of eighteen but at what cost? Her marriage had proved to be much like her music, off-key and unpleasant in the extreme. Now at the age of just nineteen Mary was a mother and utterly delighted with little Frances Rose Collins, named so after their mother. Her husband, was a little less pleased for he fully expected to be presented with a son once his dear wife ceased her annoying screams during the birthing process. After a brief glance at his daughter he pronounced that the next time Mary must try harder to produce a son. Unfortunately, the man was as stupid as ever and made the mistake of speaking in front of Lady Catherine who had returned to Rosing's Park shortly before the blessed event and was pleased to be the child's godmother. According to Mary, Lady Catherine told the new father to go to hell and if his wife had any sense, there would be no next time. Reading between the lines, Elizabeth suspected that Mary had begun to find Mr. Collins an onerous burden at best for she seemed to take great delight in describing her husband's next sermon the title of which was "Men Are Such Useless Creatures". Elizabeth also thought perhaps that Mary had been too long in the company of Lady Catherine and had discovered her own biting humor. Elizabeth supposed that the idiot deserved some pity but the only pity she could spare was for Mary who was stuck for the next fifty years with such a man.

Elizabeth's amusement at Mr. Collin's plight faded somewhat when thoughts of Lydia still had the power to intrude. She could hear Lydia and her loud raucous laughter bragging about how many times she had danced the night before. Poor Lydia, grown too old, too soon. Was she still dancing or had her choices already stolen away her joy and youth? Elizabeth could see no happiness in Lydia's future. There were some rules not made to be broken and she wondered if her youngest sister had learned that bitter lesson or was she still blissfully unaware of the price she would pay for leaving the safety of her family. She knew she shouldn't dwell on her sister's infamous behavior but on the eve of her marriage how could she not? Lydia's egregious behavior had brought their family disgrace and grief and might have destroyed all hope for Elizabeth's future. Memories of the acute despair she felt when she thought she had lost Darcy's favor still had the power to cripple her mind and body and she could never forgive Lydia. She was lost forever and Elizabeth fervently prayed she would never again surface and bring further sorrow to their family. She no longer cared whether she would ever see her youngest sister again and she felt no guilt attached to her sentiments.

The sudden death of her mother had brought added grief threatening once more to destroy her happiness. It was a shameful thought that between Lydia's defection and their mother's death, one good thing had come of it. Under her father's guidance and much in the company of Georgianna, Kitty had shown that she was actually capable of lady-like behavior. She no longer had a nervous cough, and now spoke quietly and with a modicum of calm. She had also begun to read and take great enjoyment in the exercise. She still had a long way to go but Elizabeth had great hopes for Kitty. Indeed, she had great hopes for her father as well. He seemed to take pleasure in watching Kitty improve and though he could still make sport of her it was done with a touch of affection and Kitty was more than pleased to finally obtain her father's approval.

In the drawing room Elizabeth moved her hand gently across her mother's favorite chair, hearing her prattling on aimlessly about satin and laces and long sleeves.Always flustered and distressed. Always wanting the best for her children. It seemed so unfair that just when all her dreams were about to be realized, her body had betrayed her. Though most of Elizabeth's guilt had been faced there was still a deep regret at her selfishness in denying her the knowledge of the engagement to Darcy. She had so feared that her mother's unbridled joy and thoughtless remarks concerning jewels and carriages seemed at the time intolerable. In retrospect, it now seemed to be such a petty motive compared to her mother's death.

Finally she walked down the back hall and descended to the kitchen and stood for a minute capturing Mr. And Mrs. Hill sitting quietly at their table sipping their last cup of coffee for the day. They both stood as she approached and Elizabeth hugged Mr. Hill then turned to Mrs. Hill and allowed herself to be embraced by her ample arms, remembering all the times she had sneaked into the kitchen drawn by the delicious aromas of that favorite room of her childhood. So many fond memories. Her childhood seemed to be peopled by shadowy figures that were already beginning to fade. With time, they would be nothing but indistinct memories of the past locked away in a secret part of her heart.

In her room late into the night Elizabeth could still not find sleep and found herself standing at her bedroom window staring out into the darkness as had been her wont for as long as she could remember. She still found it difficult to comprehend that her days at Longbourn were coming to an end. There had been times when she had come to believe that her future lay in the small village which was little more than a speck on the map. Just when her misery could not have become more acute, her redemption had descended on Longbourn in the guise of a fat little cleric who had pork sausage for brains. How could she have guessed that the little toad's entrance on the scene would lead to such happiness? She couldn't help a wry smile remembering how she had pleaded with Mary not to marry such a buffoon, but Mary would have her way and left Hertfordshire without a moment's regret. How horrified and disgusted Elizabeth had been as she watched their carriage set off for Kent never dreaming that this unholy alliance would so change the course of her own life. Sometimes in the dead of night when sleep would not come she wondered what would have happened if she had accepted his featherbrained proposal as her mother had demanded, and had ended up at Kent. What would have happened to them all if she had met Darcy and they had fallen in love. She supposed it would have ended in suicide or better still, mariticide. neither of which gave her much comfort. Killing one's husband was a hanging offense no matter how justifiable.

After a restless sleep Elizabeth awoke early and dressed quickly feeling a need for one last brisk walk down the familiar road to Meryton. It had been just such a morning a year earlier when she had run from Longbourn so desperately unhappy with her life and wanting any kind of change that would give some meaning to her life. She could not have guessed just how many changes fate had in store for their little family but she would not dwell on it. She had spent most of the previous night in deep reflection of the past and had come to terms with it. In two hours her life would be changed forever and she was determined to leave the past behind where it belonged and welcome the future.

As she neared the turn-off to Lucas Lodge her steps slowed, her resolve in forgetting the past, slipping just a little thinking of her dearest friend. During her sojourn in London, Elizabeth had implored her friend to join their family in Town but on one pretext or another had been refused. Elizabeth found it difficult to believe Charlotte's excuse for not attending the wedding for she knew very well that Charlotte and her sister were not the best of friends. She now had to admit that her friendship with Charlotte had begun to fray and might never be repaired. Elizabeth would marry and become the mistress of a large estate while Charlotte would remain behind to continue her spinster life in a tiny community unless she took another position in some stranger's household. Elizabeth was heart sore over the situation but knew not how she could alter what life had brought to them. Charlotte had been an integral part of her life for so many years and she missed her good counsel. She could only pray that Charlotte would eventually find her own happiness. She was so good, there had to be a man who would love her as she deserved.

When she finally reached the turn-off she stopped and allowed her eyes to fall upon the rich browns, ambers and greens that grew upon the earth. As she had done so many times as a child, she raised her eyes to heaven and slowly spun around, marveling at the large puffy clouds floating in the blue, blue sky and offered up a silent prayer for all the beauty of this wonderful world and for the future granted her.

"What took you so long? It's freezing out here."

Elizabeth stopped spinning in shock and surprise that she had been caught in such a childish display. She stared at Darcy, taking in his soft smile as he leaned against a tree regarding her with undisguised affection.

She laughed and ran towards him throwing her arms around his neck, "how did you guess I'd be here?"

"I didn't. I just hoped to see you. Instead I found an enchanting nymph spinning a spell on me as I watched. Darcy kissed her gently, then tightened his grip on her. "Oh, sweetheart, our time is finally here. Tell me you're as happy as I am."

Elizabeth gazed into his eyes and did her best to suppress a grin, "William, if you knew what I was thinking, you would surely blush."

"Tell me!"

"One day perhaps. When I get to know you better."

Her reply was rewarded with another gentle kiss. Darcy leaned his forehead against hers, "oh, Lizzie. It seems I've been looking for you all my life. I can hardly believe that tonight we'll be together in our home and in another few days we'll be at Pemberley. God has been very good to us, sweetheart."

Elizabeth blinked back tears, "sometimes I don't think I deserve such happiness."

"You deserve everything, Elizabeth, but I think you had better get back to Longbourn. You're shivering. My household will never forgive me if I carry in a limp bride."

Elizabeth giggled, "that would be preferable to carrying in Caroline Bingley." She took his face between her hands and kissed him once more before she squirmed out of his arms, "meet you at the church, my love." With a last wave, she sped back to Longbourn, her heart soaring.

The ceremony was solemn and brief. After a low mass both couples exchanged their vows and were blessed by the church of England and it was over. Elizabeth's hand was shaking as she signed her new name in the registry and Darcy touched her shoulder lightly, adding his support and understanding. She responded with a smile of thanks and he leaned close to her, "careful, Mrs. Darcy, or you'll make me blush," he whispered.

Elizabeth was still smiling as she left the church on the arm of her husband.

After a fond farewell to their father and Kitty, and the Hills who had borne witness, Elizabeth and Jane walked to the churchyard and laid their wedding bouquets on Mrs. Bennet's grave and after a quiet prayer returned to their new husbands and went their separate ways. The Bingleys were for Netherfield Park and the Darcys were for London.

On the way to Town a stillness descended on them both as they gazed at each other. Elizabeth was determined to let him direct the conversation but soon realized that he was just as determined to remain silent. There were times when his dark eyes seemed to penetrate her very soul but when he added a soft quizzical smile the combination unnerved her. As her anxiety grew, his smile grew more amused which inevitably brought a blush to her face. "What on earth is passing through your mind, Mr. Darcy?" she demanded.

Darcy laughed softly, "I was wondering what on earth I'm going to do with you now that I have you. And you? Is anything passing through your mind, dearest?"

His playful response had the desired effect and Elizabeth relaxed, "I suppose it's a mixture of terror, shock and bewilderment. I'm wondering how on earth I got myself into this fix."

"A fix? I'd rather you call it bliss."

"Oh you would, would you?"

"Indeed I would."

"Well, according to Mr. Collins, I must defer to my husband in all things. So, how on earth did I get myself into this bliss?"

He moved to her side and pulled her into a rough embrace, "Lady you bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins, And there is such confusion in my powers."

"Oh dear. Now you quote Mr. Collins?"

"Minx!"

"Poet!"

The next hour was spent clinging to each other with so many thoughts and feeling being said that little attention was paid to the weather. After a brief stop for a change of horses and a quick cup of hot soup they returned to the carriage and took up where they left off. He held her close and recited poetry while she nibbled on his neck and ran her hands through the curls on the back of his neck until he grew so distracted he lost his train of thought and fell silent except for several groans. "Take care, my love," he warned. "This is neither the time or place. Just try to remember where you were when I stopped you."

"How soon will we reach Town?"

"How your eagerness delights me, my little pearl. You are uniformly charming."

Elizabeth groaned, "I knew I shouldn't have told you about that other proposal."

"But it it was only natural, sweet pea. You wished to increase my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "will you ever let me forget that terrible day?"

"Eventually." With a quick kiss he released her. "In answer to your question, we're still five miles out." For the first time since leaving the church in Meryton Darcy concentrated on the darkened skies that were threatening to break open. The wind began to kick up and in the distance he could hear the clap of thunder. On the edge of Town it began to rain with a light drizzle and quickly escalated to a downpour. Between the wind and the deluge the carriage began to rock.

"Did we set sail," asked Elizabeth "while we were so agreeably engaged, Husband?"

Darcy searched for a sign of fear of his wife's face but saw none. "Do you find this situation amusing, sweetheart?"

"Anne wrote to me after she and Richard were married and traveling in the lake district. She said I would find marriage amusing and exciting."

"Really? And what else did she have to say?" When Elizabeth didn't respond, he continued to regard his wife with amusement, "Elizabeth?"

She was positive that Fordyce's sermons said something about lying to one's husband so she remained steadfastly silent. She was not about to tell her new husband that his dear cousin had mentioned the ecstasy of the marriage bed.

Much to Darcy's amusement, his darling wife was still blushing when they arrived safely at their townhouse.

Elizabeth's aunt had advised her to trust her husband and she would find great pleasure in the marriage bed. In a moment of her own unbridled joy, Anne had referred to what Elizabeth could expect in the marriage bed as ecstasy. That was about as far as most women dared to approach the subject, leaving their daughters completely in the dark as to just how this pleasure and ecstasy came about. There was only one thing she could reasonably be sure of. When Darcy touched her, something triggered a reaction deep in her core causing an ineffable desire to lose her own identity. She wanted him to possess her.

Hours later all her needs were answered with a gentle persuasion. As Elizabeth lay beneath her husband seeing him clearly in the moonlight that fell across her own marriage bed she found that pleasure and ecstasy were words that fell far short of the reality. Pleasure indeed came when he cupped her breast and leaned down and took the nipple between his lips and began to suck softly moving his hand down with a light gossamer touch just shy of her mons. His touch inflamed her senses and without conscience thought she opened to him, raising her legs to clasp his body pulling him towards her, accepting him. She felt him enter her body with a sweet ease as he gently broke through her barrier, holding her in a soothing embrace, waiting patiently for the pain to subside.

After a moment he intruded further, pressing aside her virgin flesh with a steady insistence, calling in a soft whisper for her to take him deep inside. She thought her pleasure could not possibly increase. How mistaken she was as he began to withdraw then eased into her again, still with an agonizingly slow pace until she raised her hips willing him to go deeper. His momentum increased plunging into her depths turning her body into a blistering euphoria of pain and rapture. He knew instinctively when she had reached the very edge and felt her sudden stillness and silent plea. He waited a split second before once more in a mindless frenzy plunged and withdrew over and over until she cried out and he was able to give her release with his own.

In the moments that followed Elizabeth held her husband's body close feeling his heart beat hard against hers. She moved her hands over him feeling the strength of him. Her mind slid back to a night at the theatre when she had first laid eyes on him and had wondered what it would be like to be in the power of this man. And now she knew. Pleasure, ecstasy, joy and bliss all rolled together in exaltation and contentment. And she loved it.

When she was finally able to control her breathing she asked, sweetly, "how often are we allowed to indulge ourselves in such a manner, husband."

"Once a year is the accepted norm, I believe."

Lizzie laughed softly, "your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble, Mr. Darcy, but my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken."

Darcy sighed, nibbling on her neck, "I love your attentions."

The morning brought a new revelation to Elizabeth as she rolled over and opened her eyes to see her husband lying beside her. Her fastidious Mr. Darcy had disappeared leaving in his place a man with tousled curls and in his sleep a look of sweet innocence that moved her to tears. She reached out a hand and gently brushed his hair back much as she would have done to a small boy.

Darcy awoke immediately, "has another year passed?" he groaned.

Elizabeth laughed with joy. "No, sweetheart, we are still in our third year of wedded bliss. But before another year has passed, your blushing bride needs to be fed."

He pulled her into her arms, "these three years were so blissful. It seems like only yesterday we were wed."

"Husband, I can assure you that unless you feed me, not another year will pass."

Darcy kissed her roughly, then as agile as a cat bounded from the bed and started searching for his robe. Elizabeth saw her husband naked for the first time and thinking him a most splendid animal, relented. "Perhaps I was too hasty. Man cannot live on bread alone."

He grinned boyishly, "no, I'll feed you. We'll need all our strength for the coming years."

And so began their marriage which would prove to be more sublime than either had imagined.

During his sojourn in Town,

in an idle conversation with Darcy, Mr. Bennet had suggested that he might take his daughter Kitty to Venice and Florence...possibly even to Rome...sometime in the Spring. Darcy was appalled and said so, noting that such a journey was the height of folly with Napoleon playing havoc in Europe. "Even the journey to Paris would prove arduous, Sir. And once there, you would be facing another twelve hundred miles."

"Young man, I am fully aware of the distances involved."

"Sir, I understand your need to get away from Hertfordshire for a while, but I must advise you against undertaking such a brutal trip. Why not consider a short trip to Bath?"

"Sitting in a tub of hot mud is not my idea of pleasure, Mr. Darcy. The last time I did so it took a year for me to clean all my crevices."

Darcy laughed hardily picturing the hapless Mr. Bennet cleaning all his crevices. When he was able to contain himself, he suggested Edinburgh as a alternative. "It's only about four hundred miles and it's truly a remarkable city."

"I think you're missing the point, Mr. Darcy. It is not Edinburgh I wish to see. It's Florence."

"And I believe you are missing my point, Sir. According to my cousin Richard, Europe is a dangerous place to be at the moment. And Scotland is still relatively safe. The Scots even speak a kind of English."

Mr. Bennet stared at his future son-in-law. He had never really taken the time to get to know the young man. Beyond his wealth and good looks he had never seen anything to recommend him. His own laissez faire approach to anything outside his port and books had kept him in the dark with what was going on in his own household. All he had ever seen was a tall quiet man who looked with favor upon Elizabeth. That his favorite daughter would be happily settled was all he had concerned himself with. He was now finding that Mr. Darcy was intelligent, articulate and possessed a sense of humor. He was also deadly serious about undertaking a trip to Europe.

Mr. Bennet had also noted that Darcy had skirted around the real issue. What had been left unsaid was Mr. Bennet's age. A trip to Rome from London would prove to be arduous enough for a young man with a year to idle away, but a man nearing eight and forty with a young girl to care for would be utter madness. Mr. Bennet relented, "I suppose I might consider it. I've never been that far north."

"You would not be disappointed. I've been there several times. There's a very fine hotel near the center of town where I always stay. It's owned by an American lady. I could write her and make the arrangements if you like."

"Well, I have six months to think about it."

And during the next six months he did think about it every time he climbed into his carriage and made the trip into London to borrow an armful of books from the Darcy library. And he thought of it when he returned to Longbourn, his body aching and sore from a round trip of fifty miles. That he had contemplated a journey of nearly sixteen hundred miles had indeed been the height of folly. In March he scribbled off a letter to Pemberley asking Darcy to make reservations at the hotel in Edinburgh for the the month of May. Darcy acknowledged the letter and a month later a very fine carriage arrived pulled by four superb specimens of horse flesh directed by two burly drivers.

Kitty refrained from squealing in delight while Mr. Bennet stared in awe at the munificence displayed by his son-in-law. For a moment he thought that sixteen hundred miles might not be that arduous riding in such comfort. However it was just a fleeting thought. It had been a quarter of century since he had seen the beauties of Florence. He'd been a young man of two and twenty and madly in love and now he was neither. Best let the past remain so. He still had his memories and would never be disappointed at how little his memory matched the reality.

About the time the Bennets were finalizing their plans for the trip north Peter Postlewaite left Nottinghamshire and rode south at a leisurely pace. The previous eight months had seen the death of both his parents. The death of his mother came as no surprise for she had been in frail health for years and after her eldest son's defection she seemed to lose all interest in life. Her arranged marriage had given her little joy except for her sons and the beautiful grounds surrounding the estate. When her husband in his anger ceded the estate to Peter and took her away to London, something in her died. It had only been a matter of time before she succumbed to her melancholia.

Father and son accompanied her body back north to the family crypt exchanging few words for there was little to say. He and his father had never been friends and after Simon had run off they had become as strangers. His father had always been a cool and reserved man who had never shown any affection towards his wife or sons though he was never unkind. They were simply part of the furniture and he accepted it. It took many years before Peter realized that it was possible that their marriage had been forced on his father as well as his mother.

After returning to the house in London his father spent many hours in his study or in the back garden simply sitting on one of the stone benches. According to his servants they were concerned but not overly so for they had always known him to be a solitary gentleman. In late January on a bitter cold night he had managed to slip out of the house unnoticed. Wearing only his nightshirt he sat down on the stone bench and froze to death.

Peter had always hoped that by showing how much he loved the land it would bring his father around but now it was too late and he felt lonely and abandoned. His father's disavowal of his youngest son was now complete and the melancholia that had afflicted his mother and was always a part of his own nature descended in full force. He wasn't sure how he was going to survive.

He allowed himself to wallow in his own self-pity for a month before he wearied of it. For the past three months he had worked hard at his estate spending long hours in the saddle checking out every square yard of his land and ordering necessary repairs after the harsh winter. During the evening hours he amused himself by sketching improvements of the manor's interior. He'd ordered newer and lighter furniture to more reflect his own taste. Unconsciously he was removing all traces of his parent's residency and making it his own.

As spring slowly returned he spent more time reliving the past and facing it squarely. He'd tried to be a good son. As a child he'd never given his parents a moment's anxiety. He'd graduated with honors from school, and when his brother had run off he had taken responsibility for the estate and had worked tirelessly. During the last weeks of his mother's illness he had remained by her side giving her comfort. He'd done everything he could to make his father love him and had failed. Now it was too late. The words that should have been spoken were left unsaid. Reason had always warred with emotion. Intellectually he understood that you couldn't make someone love if they were unwilling or incapable of such feeling, but his father's indifference to him had left him in a kind of detached state always standing outside fearing that if he ever did reach out, a rejection might be the end of him.

Then one morning on a beautiful spring day he had his horse saddled and headed south unsure of his final destination. However, as he approached the crossroads he reined to a stop and dismounted. He leaned against a tree while he thought hard and long about his next move while asking himself what he truly wanted. The manor had been scrubbed clean, the rugs replaced and old fashioned paintings and curios disposed of. As it stood, it was an impersonal shell of a house. He supposed he could continue south towards London and wander through all the shops trying to find some items that might actually look like someone lived in his house but he wasn't sure he was up to it. He had been living in a cold world for so long he had no confidence that he knew how to find warmth.

With a deep sigh he remounted and turned west towards Hertfordshire.

Charles and Jane were walking in the garden when they saw Peter riding towards them. Their reception of him was warm and genuine and he found his spirits rising as he dismounted and gripped Bingley's hand. "I see that marriage has not changed you. Still as glum as ever."

Jane smiled broadly and kissed Peter's cheek, "welcome to Netherfield," she said softly.

Bingley and his angel had done very well with each other. Their tempers were much alike but not so complying that nothing would ever be resolved on, nor so easy that every servant would cheat them and certainly never exceeded their income for Jane had taken over the management of the household with a gentle and steady hand, allowing her husband to concentrate on the management of the estate. Without the debilitating effect of Caroline, she watched her beloved husband grow more confident in his skills and acumen to the point where they were talking of abandoning Netherfield when the lease was up in June and buying a larger estate. This decision was taken away from them when Mr. Phillips informed them that the owner of the property had decided to return to Netherfield and was no longer interested in leasing or selling the estate.

"The owner is very kind," Jane said over dinner. "They realize that two months is not much time to find another property so we can stay on until November and pay by the month. But they wish to be settled for the holidays."

"Have you contacted an agent?"

Bingley laughed, "if you mean have I contacted Darcy, yes I have. And now that you're here, consider yourself contacted too. You both know what I'd want better than an agent. Just keep an eye out for an estate. I think I can handle something about twice this size."

"Consider it done. And will you miss Netherfield?"

"It's been a wonderful learning experience," Bingley replied. "I find that running an estate suits me very well. But I confess I'm eager for new challenges. And I miss Darcy and Jane misses her sister."

"I'll miss father and Kitty and, of course, Charlotte Lucas," Jane said, "but we really don't have a choice."

"How is Miss Lucas?" Peter asked. "In good health, I hope."

"I think so. We've seen little of her recently. She's been keeping to herself since our weddings."

Peter frowned, "that's not like her."

His hosts exchanged a look which Peter missed, "I know," was Jane's reply.

Later that evening the two men settled in comfortably before a fire savoring an excellent brandy. "I was very sorry to hear about your parents, Peter. I hardly remember my mother's death but when my father died it was a terrible blow. And I know it was very hard for Jane and her sisters. There's an invisible cord that ties us to our parents and when it's cut it's as if we've been left alone in the world with no one to turn to if we need help."

"I gave up asking my father for help years ago."

"Things were never resolved?"

Peter shook his head, "no, never resolved. I've had to do that myself."

"And have you?"

"Still working on it."

"Darcy once told me that nowhere is it written that you must love your sister. I think that must apply as well for parents and children. Who knows why we love and why we can't. I tried my level best with Caroline but she had her demons. And perhaps it was the same with your father."

"Possibly. It was an arranged marriage which brought neither of them pleasure."

"Well, at least you won't fall into that trap, knowing first hand what kind of misery can come with such a union."

"And are you still happy, Charles?"

Bingley stared at him in shock, "of course I am. I can't imagine what I'd do without Jane."

"And Darcy? Is he still happy?"

"Well, his letters don't reveal much about his private affairs but," Bingley added with a sly grin, "Lizzie tells Jane that she never believed that she could be so happy. Apparently, marriage suits both of them very well. We've been invited to Pemberley this summer. Did you get their invitation to join them?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"I don't know. I still have a lot of work to do on my estate."

"Oh, do come, Pete. Richard and Anne will be there. And Charlotte Lucas has been invited too."

"Well, maybe I will. Yes, maybe I will."

Suppressing a grin, Bingley refilled their glasses.


	25. FURTHER EVENTS

Charlotte Lucas had yet to recover from that peculiar malaise that had been haunting her for the past year. Her friends would have been surprised to know that her unhappiness had not begun on the way to Norfolk where she had hired on as a governess, rather, on her return to Lucas Lodge where she had already spent six and twenty years of her life and knew very well what lay before her. She was not fool enough to expect to find what she was searching for in Norfolk though hope dies hard, but if there was any chance of finding happiness it would not be in Hertfordshire where there was no hope at all. To be sure there were four and twenty families living in the area but all the men were either married, too young, or in their dotage. 

She had to finally accept a fate worse than death. She had become that despised creature, a spinster, and it was universally acknowledged that a plain woman with little to recommend her, must be a ridiculous, disagreeable old maid, and she had become all of that. She had refused Elizabeth's kind invitation to join her in London and had gone to Surrey instead, just so she would not be able to attend the weddings. Instead of enjoying a wonderful month in Town, then seeing two dear friends married to men they loved she'd opted to spend a month in the company of a much despised sister-in-law who whined constantly about her health and the child she was carrying. Her brother's wife had flitted continuously between complaints of being put upon, and stuffing her mouth with anything she could lay her hands on. She was now grossly fat and Charlotte's brother feared his wife would give birth to a water buffalo. That marriage was doomed to failure for her brother had chosen a bride who was adorable, flighty and ignorant of just what marriage entailed. Charlotte wondered where the poor deluded girl thought babies came from? She hazarded a guess that storks played some part, that is if she had ever read a German folk tale or had ever opened a book, for that matter.

Her stay in Surrey had been an ordeal made worse by the knowledge that she had no one to blame but herself. It wasn't that she begrudged Elizabeth and Jane's good fortune for she was delighted to see her friends so happily situated. It was her constrained spirits that had brought her so low and made her so unwilling to be in her friend's company. She had been able to mask her low spirits through the ordeal of Lydia's defection and Mrs. Bennet's death for it was perfectly acceptable for a good friend of the family to be teary eyed over the misfortunes of good friends. It was unlikely that the townspeople would be so charitable if she seemed to be weeping at the happiness of two such deserving young women. 

Then too, there was the matter of Peter Postlewaite and the possibility that she might see him again in London. She simply wasn't up to it. Her mother was as bad as Mrs. Bennet had been when it came to marrying her children off. Of course, with a seven and twenty year old daughter still on her hands she had every reason to be anxious, but her constant mention of that young man and what a shame it was that he had left the area, didn't help Charlotte's mood. Her mother simply wouldn't accept the fact that a handsome young man with a large estate and an income of six thousand pounds might be in want of a wife but it was unreasonable to think that the wife he would choose would be plain Charlotte Lucas who had nothing to offer in return. 

She had spent so many months with a mind full of turmoil thinking of the friends who had left her behind to begin a new chapter in their lives while she continued to read the same old pages of her own life. By early spring she began to realize that she had fallen into a trap of feeling sorry for herself and it angered her for it showed a weakness of character that she despised in others. She grew determined to throw off this mantle of gloom she'd be wearing for the past year and get on with her life. Once she reached that decision she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She was, after all, not without friends. She need not remain in Hertfordshire for the rest of her life. She had excellent references that were sure to procure employment as a governess. And better still, she had always been good friends with the Gardiners and they had promised to find her employment whenever she chose that course and assured her that in Town she would always be under their protection. 

Now she had received another invitation from Elizabeth, this time to join her at Pemberley for the summer. From Kitty, she knew that her friend was deliriously happy yet her letters to Charlotte were almost detached when referring to her marriage. Charlotte knew Elizabeth well enough to sense the restraint in her friend's words describing her six month marriage and she knew very well that she was the cause of it. It was a delicate task to express happiness and not appear to gloat. She was thoroughly ashamed to think she was depriving her dearest friend of being open and honest about her joy. She would have to go to Pemberley or risk losing Elizabeth's friendship and that was unimaginable. 

For the first time in many months she left the confines of Lucas Lodge in a cheery mood welcoming the bright sunshine of a May day feeling her spirits lift as she contemplated spending so many weeks with Elizabeth. She found her favorite tree and leaned against it munching on a pear as she perused this last letter seeing Pemberley through Elizabeth's eyes. Marriage had not dampened Elizabeth's enthusiasm or wit as she described still needing a road map to get around the great house or how she had gotten lost only twice while clambering around the peaks that surround Pemberley. She declared it a rumor that Darcy had locked her in her room while he hastily drew another map so he wouldn't have to send out a hunting party every time she left the house.

She was so engrossed and smiling so broadly at Elizabeth's silliness that she only vaguely heard the rider approaching and didn't bother to look up. It took her several moments before she became aware that the rider had not continued past. When she finally did look up she was shocked to see Peter Postlewaite sitting astride his horse in his usual relaxed posture staring at her with that wry smile that was so endearing. Despite her best effort she felt her heart quicken seeing him after so many months. Handsome enough to make a maiden weep was the refrain that crossed her mind as she offered him one of her own wry smiles. "And what brings you so far away from Sherwood Forest? I've imagined you and Robin getting up to all kinds of mischief in Nottinghamshire."

He laughed softly, "I'm afraid Robin and his merry men no longer have time for me or perhaps it's the other way around. They have all settled down to lead exemplary lives."

"They have exchanged merriment for marriage, perhaps."

"I would not have you think so, Miss Lucas. I'm inclined to think that they sought marriage as an addition to their merriment which is why I've traveled south. I've come to seek an addition to my merriment."

"Forgive me, Mr. Postlewaite, but you have never struck me as a very merry man. In any case, if you hope to find a companion who will give you some liveliness, I fear you have traveled down the wrong road. This path leads to Lucas Lodge and it's a dead end." 

If he heard the bitterness in her voice, he didn't allow it to show. He dismounted and approached her. "Is your father home?"

"My father?"

"Yes, Miss Lucas. Your father. Your sire. The man of the house."

Charlotte eyed him with amusement, "I know who my father is, Mr. Postlewaite, though if it's really a companion you seek, you might think twice about choosing my father unless you wish an introduction to St. James's Court. Peter returned her smile and waited in silence. When it appeared he was not inclined to speak further, she was puzzled. She could not imagine why he would wish to speak with her father for no one with a modicum of sense ever sought an audience with her father unless he was a lover of absurdities. "You really want to see my father?"

"I do."

"But Mr. Postlewaite, must I remind you that he is a knight of the realm and a very important person in his own mind. It might take weeks before he could fit you into his busy schedule."

Peter's smile broadened, "I've missed your company, Miss Lucas, but I must insist on speaking to your father. If I'm to court you I must seek his permission first." In the deafening silence that greeted this statement Charlotte frowned and felt a momentary anger that he would tease her in this manner. Her second reaction was that he had taken leave of his senses. He shifted uneasily, "do you object, Miss Lucas?"

"Nothing much surprises me anymore, Mr. Postlewaite, but I must admit that you've caught me off balance." He seemed perfectly serious, but still, after his sudden departure the previous August she had tried to put him out of her mind determined to think of him as just a common and indifferent acquaintance though her heart had said otherwise. And here he was after so many months requesting permission to court her. She was at a loss for words.

"Have I displeased you?"

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, "No, you haven't displeased me." 

Peter took a step towards her, "are you angry with me?" When she didn't respond, he spoke quickly, "I know I should have spoken to you before I left last August, but my life was in utter chaos. It wouldn't have been fair to you. I...I'm so sorry, Charlotte."

"Good grief, Peter! I am neither angry or displeased with you so please stop apologizing. Do you think me so empty headed that I mistook four dances and some lively conversation as anything but good social skills?"

"It was always more than that, Charlotte." 

"Well, I commend you for keeping your thoughts to yourself."

They stood facing each other in silence until he reached out and took both her hands in his, "you are too generous to trifle with me. Tell me so at once. May I court you?"

"If you like," she managed, before realizing her response had been slightly ungracious. "I mean...that is to say..." She lapsed into silence until she saw the twinkle in his eye. "Oh, Peter," she sighed, lapsing into further silence stunned and in wonder that the course of her life could change it's direction with just a few words. 

"I must speak with your father."

"That won't be necessary. I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

"Understood. But nevertheless, it's the proper thing to do."

"And do you always do the proper thing?"

"Yes." He pulled her into his arms, "until otherwise provoked." 

He moved so fast that she had no time to react before she felt his mouth on hers. Charlotte's senses reeled as she received her first lover's kiss. When he finally released her he continued to hold her in a close embrace staring into her eyes. With difficulty she returned his gaze, trying desperately to make light of the situation, "we are on a pubic road, Mr. Postlewaite. The neighbors will be scandalized."

He did his best to suppress a smile and failed miserably, "We've wasted enough time, Charlotte. Besides, a scandal might cut our courtship in half."

She regarded him with some solemnity, "indeed it might. Father might even leave his easy chair and hunt you down."

"Then we should save him the trouble and seek him out first."

Fully expecting that she was still asleep and this was only a very pleasant dream she watched him tuck her hand in his arm and together they walked slowly up the hill towards her home. 

During their trip north Mr. Bennet further instructed Kitty on how to deport herself at the various hotels they stopped at. He had found that strangers who had no expectation of ever seeing you again had a propensity to divulge personal secrets which they would never do to well known acquaintances. Why this should be Mr. Bennet had not a clue but he despised this proclivity and as a rule shunned his fellow travelers. Kitty was to be deliberately vague about her family, where their estate lay, and under no circumstances was she to mention her sister Lydia. "Just remember, Kitty, that you need not be rude, but just show some circumspection when speaking with strangers."

"Father, will you ever forgive Lydia?"

The look he gave his daughter was not without understanding, "Kitty, your sister brought humiliation and misery upon her family, not once but twice. Except for our reputation, the Bennets of Longbourn have little enough to recommend us. From what I can gather, both your sisters had already fallen in love. Can you imagine what they must have been going through knowing that few men would be willing to marry into a family who's youngest sister had brought such ruin and disgrace upon them? If Darcy and Bingley hadn't been the men they are, your sisters would now be suffering the greatest sorrow. And too, we would not now be traveling in this fine coach on our way to Edinburgh. Lydia's actions were a reflection on us all and might have changed the course of all out lives. Keep that in mind, Kitty, and save your sympathy for someone more worthy than your sister Lydia."

"Then you can never forgive her."

Her father sighed, "she will always be my child, Kitty. That will never change. Now read your book or take a nap and I will do the same."

In the comfort of their carriage the Bennets made the journey at an unhurried pace stopping as frequently as their weariness dictated for there was no urgency. Darcy had sent one of his under-stewards to aid in any problems that might arise at Longbourn and though it was left unspoken, there was little to draw him back to Hertfordshire. He had only one daughter left and at the age of eighteen she would be leaving next. The thought gave him little pleasure which surprised him. In recent months he had grown rather fond of Kitty for she had proved not to be as empty-headed as he had always imagined. Indeed, in recent months he came to suspect that she actually had a brain though she tended to use it in a sporadic fashion. 

Dusk was upon them when they finally reached their destination and climbed down to gaze up at their home for the next four weeks. The hotel was on a grand scale but far from ornate. It exuded good taste and comfort and Mr. Bennet was pleased in his expectations of a pleasant month in what some were calling the Athens of the North. Kitty was even more than pleased as they approached the front desk and she laid eyes on the young man who stood behind the desk. She thought that she could stand there and stare at him for the rest of her life for he was tall and handsome, just what a young man ought to be. Unfortunately, the minute her father gave his name the young man disappeared behind some curtains and too quickly was replaced by a handsome woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Nederfeldt, the owner of the establishment. It was now Mr. Bennet's turn to stare in admiration for he thought she was everything desirable to a mere mortal man.

As he and Kitty followed her up the stairs to the second floor she spoke in a gentle voice with a faint American accent as she ushered them into large airy rooms that overlooked the city. "I do hope you find these accommodations to your liking, Mr. Bennet. These rooms are where Mr. Darcy stays when he visits. If there's anything you require, please don't hesitate to ask. We have an excellent restaurant which will be open at six for the dinner service."

"No haggis, I hope," said Mr. Bennet, regretting his lame joke immediately.

Mrs. Nederfeldt turned an amused eye on him, "I fear the hunting season for haggis is long past, however we do have other amusements. Every night we hold a guest-only dance in the east wing." And with that, Mrs. Nederfeldt left the room leaving behind a scent of wild flowers and a very bemused Mr. Bennet. 

Most of the women of his acquaintance who were of a certain age were loud and if not loud, exceptionally stupid. It was one of the reasons he had never even considered straying from his vows. That he would find himself instantly attracted to a woman he did not know was interesting. He thought prurience was well behind him but it seemed that it was still alive and well and the thought brought an amused smile to his face.

"What kind of animal is a haggis?"

"If I remember correctly Kitty, it's oatmeal and offal boiled in a stomach."

"They have a hunting season for that?"

Mr. Bennet sighed heavily, "go rest your brain of a while and if you're a good girl I'll take you to the dance after dinner."

After a short nap followed by an excellent dinner father and daughter were in good spirits. Mr. Bennet was really not in the mood to attend a dance fearing it would be a raucous affair much like the affairs at Meryton, but this was to be as much of a vacation for Kitty as himself so he acquiesced to Kitty's silent plea. 

As they advanced down a long hall soft sounds of a string quartet could be heard. They entered a mid-sized, beautifully appointed room and were immediately approached by the young man who they had met briefly at the front desk, "My mother asks if you would care to join us at our table," he said.

"Your mother?"

"Permit me to introduce myself, Mr. Bennet. My name is Jonathon Nederfeldt. My mother owns this establishment."

Mr. Bennet was not overly flattered by the invitation for he assumed that it was part of the service if one happened to be the father-in-law of Fitzwilliam Darcy, but he was perfectly willing to take advantage of the connection. "We'd be honored, sir."

The evening proved to be pleasant and entertaining for both Bennets. Jonathon introduced Kitty to some close friends of his who were staying for a month. David Sutcliff was another young man of pleasant visage and his sisters, Reine and Clair, were eager to be friends. All four young people seemed to be both intelligent and amiable and Mr. Bennet had no qualms in allowing Kitty to join them at their own table though he still kept an eagle eye on his daughter. 

"Your daughter is in very good hands, Mr. Bennet. The Sutcliffs are a very respectable family and my son will see that no harm comes to her. Mr. Darcy would never forgive him if it did."

"You've known Mr. Darcy for long?"

"About fifteen years. A quiet and shy little lad and for some strange reason my son who is quite the opposite in temperament, attached himself to him though he was but eight years of age. Jonathon had never met a thirteen year old boy who was so quiet and a complete gentleman before." 

"And how did Mr. Darcy respond?"

Mrs. Nederfeldt laughed softly, remembering, "Young Master Darcy regarded Jonathon with perplexity. He had a way of frowning which I thought was disapprobation, but soon realized it was just his way of trying to decipher a puzzle. I suppose he couldn't understand why Jonathon would decide they were best friends and follow him around like a puppy dog." 

"And he allowed it? That's quite remarkable."

"What was remarkable was that within a month Jonathon received a letter from Mr. Darcy describing the trip back to Derbyshire and his feelings upon seeing his home again after being away for so long. Jonathon allowed me to read that first letter. Mr. Darcy showed a wisdom beyond his tender years but what most impressed me was his love for his ancestral home. He didn't take Pemberley for granted and voiced his concerns about the responsibilities he would shoulder one day. Of course he thought he would have plenty of time before that day would come. I was very saddened to hear that his father had died just after he left Cambridge."

"What of his mother?

Mrs. Nederfeldt couldn't mask her surprise, "she died two years earlier when he was just eleven which made the untimely death of his father so poignant. Anyway, Jonathon was quick to respond and their letters continue even today. Mr. Darcy returned to Edinburgh twice during the next few years and each time encouraged Jonathon to study hard and read anything he could get his hands on. Eventually letters from Cambridge began to arrive describing in minute detail the life of a college man. It didn't take long before my son had made up his mind to study at Cambridge though there is an excellent college here in Edinburgh. Have you been to Pemberley, Mr. Bennet?"

"No, not yet. Kitty and I plan to spend a few weeks there when we leave here."

It sounds like paradise on earth. I'm sure you'll enjoy your visit."

Mr. Bennet's reaction to this tale was surprise with a touch of shame. This woman knew more about his son-in-law than he did. Unwilling to continue a conversation that would reveal his own deficiencies, he abruptly changed the subject. "So, tell me about this beautiful city, Mrs. Nederfeldt and what must I see to merit this long journey from the comfort of my study."

That evening was the first of many that Mr. Bennet enjoyed in the company of Mrs. Nederfeldt while Kitty began a new chapter in her life. As young people will, she had made fast friends with the Sutcliffe girls particularly with the youngest one, Reine, who reminded Mr. Bennet of his own Jane. She was gentle and sweet, and Mr. Bennet could not ask for a better companion for his daughter. As for Clair Sutcliffe, she reminded him of Elizabeth with her lively disposition and inquiring mind. Instead of prowling the streets for a sight of a redcoat, the three girls had headed straight for Arthur's Seat to enjoy a spectacular view of the city. Picnicking on an extinct volcano was the most exciting adventure they had ever had and all three of the girls were eager to share the experience with Mr. Bennet. To his delight the three girls invariably joined him at tea time for some lively discussions and to his secret amusement Kitty seemed perplexed that her new friends would find the company of her father so enjoyable. To his further amusement he sometimes caught his daughter eying him with interest. He sincerely hoped she would now consider finding a husband who had a brains and wit and didn't wear a redcoat.

Within a week he began to join Mrs. Nederfeldt for an early breakfast which became one of the highlights of his day. It was always with regret when she had to leave his company to attend the task of running a successful business, however he had a beautiful city to explore and he made the most of it. He spent long hours walking through the medieval streets searching out the myriad bookstores and art galleries, often spending time at a small cafe and sitting on it's outside terrace watching the world go by. In Hertfordshire one day slid into another with a sameness that was mind-numbing. Here in Scotland three weeks had passed so quickly he wondered how on earth he had gotten to this place in time and how he could return to Longbourn and pick up where he had left off. Secluding himself in his study no longer held the appeal it once had. He had never thought of himself as a lonely man but these weeks past had proved otherwise. 

Evening brought the best part of the day. He'd forgotten the joy of dining with an intelligent and very beautiful woman who had the ability to make him laugh. With one week to go before returning to England Mr. Bennet began to think about extending his leave from Longbourn. He thought he might broach the subject to Mrs. Nederfeldt that evening and try to gauge her reaction. If she showed some enthusiasm...if she received this news with one of her enchanting smiles, he might extend his holiday for a week...maybe even a month.

When he entered the dining room with girded loins, so to speak, he felt a mild disappointment not to see her at their table. Instead, he was met by Jonathon who extended his mother's regret that she wouldn't be able to join him for dinner but hoped to see him at the dance later that evening.

"She is not ill, I trust."

"Not at all. She's been busy with her advocate and property agent ironing out the final details."

"The final details?"

"Yes, Mr. Bennet. Mother has sold the hotel. She signed the final papers this afternoon. She's hosting a celebratory dinner in her quarters."

An old Scottish proverb kept running through his head as he tried to enjoy his meal: "Egotism is an alphabet of one letter". She was so interested in him that she had failed to mention she was selling the hotel; so interested that she hadn't bothered to invite him to this celebratory dinner. For all he knew she was planning to return to America. There was another proverb known in any language: "There's no fool like an old fool". There would be no delaying their trip back to England. It would probably be better if he left early...like tonight. He finished the bottle of wine and returned to his room where he consumed several brandies before dropping onto the bed to snore the night away.

He rose late the following morning feeling like a fool; an infatuated old fool. He was besotted, enamored and suffering from the worst hangover he'd ever had in his life. He'd already missed breakfast so he decided to spend the entire day in his room trying to concentrate on a book while trying not to sulk. Unfortunately thoughts of Margaret Nederfeldt kept intruding. He kept asking himself what possible difference could it make that she had sold the hotel but the answer was always the same. He knew next to nothing about her or where she might go. His instruction to Kitty came back to haunt him. Never speak of the personal to a stranger. He had adhered to his own advice and found that Margaret was even better at staying on neutral ground. He knew only that she was an American and a widow and he had learned that from Darcy. 

After his bath and while the hotel barber tried to make him look human he considered the situation. He must retain his dignity at all costs. He was heartened by the fact that he hadn't made any overtures that would have been rebuffed. Though he was sure she recognized his admiration he was also quite sure she was used to men appreciating her beauty and treated it as her due and nothing more. She was beautiful with those copper tresses framing a perfect oval face; her sweet and gentle laughter; her dainty figure; her white shoulders. He commanded his thoughts not to go any lower than her shoulders. The more he thought on it, the more he understood just how ridiculous his aspirations had been. It was not love he felt, but simple lust. 

That settled, his course was clear. He would be cool but not distant, nonchalant but not sullen, interested but not overly so. He just hoped she hadn't noticed that he had not joined her for the dance the night before. That is, of course, if she had deigned to bother with a simple dance considering how busy she was with her celebratory dinners with old friends.

"I missed our dance last night," said she as he took his place at their table that evening.

"I'm afraid I got so engrossed in my book I let time get away from me." The perfect tone! "Besides, I knew you were busy and probably wouldn't miss me." Stupid! Petulant schoolboy!

She eyed him with some amusement, "I didn't until I was half- way through the dance and realized I was missing a partner."

Oh, but she was charming, damn her! "I suppose it would be scandalous if we made up for it by dancing twice this evening?" He held his breath.

"You surprise me, Mr. Bennet. I did not think you a dancing man."

Teasing woman! "I would much prefer to talk as I think you know."

"Then what shall we talk about? Kitty tells me you live near a village called Merrietown? Is it very merrie?

He laughed hardily, "it's Meryton. I think it was named after one of our queens, but no one knows for sure."

"Surely not the bloody one. I've heard you English have a quaint sense of irony but naming a village after a mass murderess is surely most indelicate."

He knew he was grinning broadly but couldn't help himself. "You remind me of my daughter, Elizabeth. She could always make me laugh."

"And does she make Mr. Darcy laugh?"

"Occasionally. But mostly he smiles a lot."

"Then they will be very happy."

"And were you happy in your marriage?"

He could have bitten his tongue for the audacity of such a personal question but her only reaction was a slight shrug, "In the beginning, yes. I came to Europe with my parents and a younger sister. We stayed in London which was where I met Fredrick Nederfeldt and instantly fell in love." She allowed a faint smile, remembering. "He was five and thirty and the handsomest man I had ever seen. Mind you, at the age of eighteen I had little experience with men but knew in my heart that I could not live without him. Fredrick was heir to a small estate in England and was expected to live out his life as a gentleman farmer, but there was no challenge in that kind of life so on a whim he bought this hotel which was about a third the size it is now. He kept buying property and expanding until it was as you see today. He had something to prove to his father, you see."

"And was his father impressed?"

"He was disappointed, but very proud of his son. So was I. It was so exciting in the beginning. We were madly in love and working side by side to build the finest hotel in Edinburgh. It didn't matter that I had gained my father's disapproval and broke my mother's heart for they had much loftier plans for me. I was to marry a rich man and become a grande dame of New York society. Instead, there I was working in Scotland, married to a tradesman."

"There are class distinctions in the Americas?"

She eyed him with a wry smile, "we humans must always find a reason to feel superior whether it's upstairs or down."

"That's true. But tell me, how did your fairytale end?"

Once more she shrugged those beautiful shoulders, "with obsession. He had no time for me or Jonathon, only with this property and further expansions. There was never any time to enjoy the fruits of our labor; no time to take Jonathon to Cambridge and see him settled in. That was left to Mr. Darcy who found suitable quarters for him, saw him through admission's week and encouraged him to make the most of it. For that I will always be grateful to him."

"You must have been very unhappy."

"I was more unhappy for him. It seemed like a wasted life. We were wealthy and the hotel had gained a wonderful reputation. I wanted to see London, Paris and Rome. I wanted to bring back the passion that we'd felt in the beginning. And then he grew ill and died. End of story."

"Perhaps a new beginning."

"Perhaps. I tend to think only of the past as its remembrance gives me pleasure so I will never forget the past but I won't let it dictate my future. For the first time in five and twenty years I'm an independent woman in charge of my life and as soon as I get used to it, I'm going to love it." 

"Will you go back to America?"

By way of answer she said, "I have several options open to me. Returning to America is one or them, I suppose." That said, she glanced around the room with fondness nodding at several diners, "I will miss this life, I confess. I've met some wonderful people and made many friends along the way. My life is about to change drastically. I'll have to get used to living a quiet life. And you? Where do you go from here?"

She had been more open with him in the last few minutes than the last month but now he sensed her withdrawal and he responded with an answer as evasive as hers had been. Two days later he and Kitty headed south then east towards Derbyshire where they planned to spend a further few week. He was inclined to think that he would have been better off if he had never laid eyes on Margaret Nederfeldt.


	26. ENDINGS

During their journey towards Pemberley Kitty could talk of nothing but how wonderful the Nederfeldts and Sutcliffes were, how beautiful Edinburgh was, how exciting it was to be invited to spend September at the Sutcliffe estate in Bedfordshire, how she must go shopping so as not to disgrace herself.

Her father hardly listened to her prattle as his mind was more disagreeably engaged with Margaret Nederfeldt and how bittersweet their last few moments together had been. In his heart he knew that they would probably never see each other again yet when he voiced this opinion she had smiled enigmatically, "you never know what life has in store for us. Who knows but that one day we'll meet at a dance. Will you save me a dance, Thomas? I believe you owe me one."

For a fleeting moment he allowed himself to believe that they would indeed meet again, "if one evening you appear at our local assembly I promise to dance the night away with only you."

"Take care with your promises, Thomas. I might hold you to it."

As their carriage pulled away he couldn't help taking a last look back at her, savoring the memory of her standing there waving her farewell. After his wife's death, time had worked it's miracle with remarkable efficiency. He could almost believe that their marriage of a quarter century had not been so bad and in retrospect it had not been that much different from any of the other marriages in and around Meryton. The only marriage that had ever seemed ideal was the one the Gardiners enjoyed and that was the exception more than the rule. In truth his marriage had not been so bad as it had been so dull. Fanny had lacked any mental acuity that didn't revolve around the latest fashions or how to procure husbands for her five daughters. Living with such a wife had been such a tiresome affair and now at his age to meet with a woman who was so knowledgeable about the world she lived in and had such a keen sense of humor had left him with a sense of desolation knowing how unlikely it was that they would ever meet again.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Pemberley ten days later he was mentally and physically exhausted and wanted nothing more than to retire to a dark room and sleep the month away and wake refreshed with no memory of Margaret Nederfeldt. That thought lasted until they reached the crest of the hill and he got his first sight of Pemberley. As their carriage made it's slow descent into the valley he realized that he was actually holding his breath taking in the beauty that lay before him. It was magnificent and close to sublime in it's raw beauty. In forty years he had seen many grand estates but none that was so happily situated nor a place for which nature had done more, or had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. A bright sun shone down on a large mirrored lake which reflected back myriads of rainbow lights upon the large stone mansion.

"Are you sure this is Pemberley?" Kitty whispered in awe.

"If that's Lizzy running across the lawn towards us, I believe it must be."

Their welcome to Elizabeth's home was warm and joyous. He hadn't seen Elizabeth in nearly eight months and though she wrote regularly assuring him that she was happy, it wasn't until he saw how radiant she was could he be fully content. Glancing past his beloved daughter he saw Darcy standing alone watching his wife with quiet pleasure. Now knowing so much more about the man who had chosen Elizabeth Bennet for his bride, he felt a little like Mr. Collins, full of pride and humility in equal parts.

The weeks at Pemberley flew by like an errant breeze with no two days alike. Wide lawns of green dotted with muslins of white and blue, lemon, lavender and lime beneath a powder blue sky could make an artist's heart ache but even more enchanting was the sight of Elizabeth and Darcy sunning themselves on the broad lawn their heads close together exchanging confidences interspersed with laughter and gentle kisses . The happiness of his favorite daughter brought tears to his old and jaundiced eyes though he would deny it. Then there was Jane who had always been the quiet one, holding her husband's hand as they strolled along the edge of the lake both gaily chattering away. Love had finally given her a voice.

And then there was Charlotte Lucas strolling arm in arm with Peter Postlewaite both looking for all the world like two people in courtship. How had this come about and was he the last to know? The answer came in a moment; probably, since he had never shown any interest in the affairs of his children, let alone his neighbors. Well, he wished Charlotte all the happiness in the world for he had always liked her for her quiet sense.

Long walks through the woods, crossing miniature bridges with their sinister signs warning the unwary humans of the trolls lurking beneath their feet gave him another insight to the character of his host. He had a playful side which would appeal to Elizabeth, but it was the astonishing library that showed the true nature of the man. His thirst for knowledge was astonishing. The books bridged two hundred years and were in immaculate order and up to date. Touching the tomes written by men long dead affected him with wonder and he was able to forget the beautiful woman he'd met in Scotland for hours at a time.

Dinners were especially entertaining for there was nothing more delightful than breaking bread with agreeable company. Lady Catherine was proving to be a delightful companion. He enjoyed her acerbic wit especially when she related the misadventures of her clumsy cleric and his hapless flock , "I have it on good authority that they now talk openly of the merits of Satanism at the local pub."

"Must I remind you, Lady Catherine, that Mr. Collins is my son-in-law."

"Accidents will happen, Mr. Bennet. I'm sure you are above reproach."

"You're all kindness, Lady Catherine."

"Thank you. Kindness is one of my virtues and I'm sure I have others."

Kitty and Georgiana were becoming fast friends and chatted and giggled incessantly. What they found so fascinating Mr. Bennet couldn't guess though he frequently heard the names of David Sutcliffe and Jonathon Nederfeldt mentioned so he could make an educated guess.

It was during this last mention of those two young men that Bingley ventured, "Nederfeldt? That name sounds familiar to me."

From Richard, "and how is the beauteous Mrs. Nederfeldt? Still driving men mad with her charms?"

All eyes turned to Mr. Bennet and waited. When he remained silent, Kitty answered for him, "She and father dined together every night and even danced together."

The disapproving glare Mr. Bennet sent to his daughter did not go unnoticed and brought a smile to more than one face.

"I know I've heard that name just recently," Bingley said to no one in particular.

"If you anglicize Nederfeldt," Peter offered, "you could get Netherfield. Maybe that's where you heard it, Bing. Could it be that she is the phantom owner of Netherfield? Heard of but never seen?"

"Maybe. I never read the fine lines. I just sign where my solicitor tells me."

Darcy frowned. "I didn't hear that," he said

"Well," Jane offered gently, "the owner wishes to settle at Netherfield by Christmas so we should know by then."

Mr. Bennet threw a startled look at Bingley and Jane and a suspicious one at Darcy who was flirting with his wife at the other end of the table. "Mr. Darcy, is this true? Does Mrs. Nederfeldt own Netherfield?"

Surprised to be addressed, Darcy dragged his eyes from Elizabeth, "I don't know, Mr. Bennet. Jonathon's letters speak more of his future plans. He and his friend David Sutcliffe are planning to open a law office in Town. I do remember, however, he once mentioned that his father owned an estate in Hertfordshire. It meant nothing to me at the time. But surely if Mrs. Nederfeldt owned Netherfield she would have told you. When I first contacted her regarding your reservations, I sent her your full address."

Mr. Bennet fell back in stunned disbelief, "she referred to our quaint little village as Merry Town. When I corrected her she accused the English of being indelicate for naming our village after Bloody Mary."

Darcy chortled, "you must admit, Mr. Bennet, that not only is she beautiful, she has a wicked sense of the ridiculous."

"I will admit no such thing," was the grumbled return.

His reply raised several brows and furtive looks among the guests and it was an unspoken decision to drop the subject of Mrs. Nederfeldt leaving Mr. Bennet to his quiet ruminations.

And ruminate he did, with varying success, for the next few weeks. Margaret had to be the owner of Netherfield yet why hadn't she said so? Why had she teased him with the possibility of seeing him again but did not divulge this secret? No! She could not be the owner. Too much of a coincidence. That would explain why she didn't say anything. But if she wasn't the owner, then why make a promise to dance with him? He knew he could ask his brother-in-law, Phillips, who would know, but he rejected that idea before it took root. Mr. Phillips was as gossipy as his wife and any inquiry would be sure to spread like wildfire. Besides, he wasn't speaking to the Phillips family.

A few days before he and Kitty were to leave he stood on the southern terrace watching an hilarious game of croquet being played on the lawn. The men were partnered with the ladies and things were not going well. The men were treating the game as an exercise in warfare while the ladies thought they were just acting silly, and couldn't understand why missing a ball could wring such a loud groan of anguish from a grown man. When Richard threw his mallet at a tree, Anne threatened to throw her mallet at Richard which made Elizabeth collapse on the lawn with shouts of glee. Jane looked bemused and wanted to know if it was legal to throw their stick at a tree?"

"It's called a mallet, dearest, " Bingley offered with a gentle pat on the back.

Lady Catherine joined Mr. Bennet to watch the spectacle, "what's the score?"

"I have no idea. They seem to making up the rules as they go."

"Has Richard thrown his mallet yet?"

"Yes, and your daughter has threatened to commit mayhem on his person."

"Sounds like the game is almost over."

Yes. And summer is almost gone."

She never took her eyes off the game, "but there is autumn, Mr. Bennet. And autumn can be a very beautiful season."

He searched her words for a deeper meaning. She had proved to be an astute observer of her fellow guests...but she said no more, only continued to watch the game for a few minutes more before returning to the house.

Father and daughter left Pemberley with some regret. It had been a magical time seeing Elizabeth and Jane so happy but Kitty was anxious to visit the Gardiners in Town so she could get some serious shopping done and he was anxious to return to Longbourn to gather any information concerning the owner of Netherfield.

Halcyon days of a bright summer faded all too soon to an early autumn and in late September Sir William Lucas and his Lady made the arduous journey to Pemberley not so much for the wedding of their spinster daughter but to have bragging rights over Mrs. Phillips who was now seriously regreting her immoderate actions following Mrs. Bennet's untimely death. She had given too little thought to the ramifications inherent with the marriages of Elizabeth and Jane to very wealthy men. She had overlooked the fact that she herself had two unmarried daughters still on her hands. This was knowledge that those girls had not yet let her forget and were now threatening to do a Lydia on her unless she procured them an invitation to Pemberley so they might meet other wealthy men. The hapless Mrs. Phillips had been making overtures to Mr. Bennet for several weeks to no avail. He too knew how to hold a grudge.

Two days later Charlotte Lucas gave her hand and heart to Peter Postlewaite. The attendees to the nuptials all agreed that Charlotte was a lovely bride as all brides intrinsically are for she glowed with happiness and was not at all plain to her friends or her groom. That they would be happy was in no doubt for they were ideally matched. The friendship that had begun at an assembly dance a year and a half earlier had deepened into a partnership of trust and reliance on each other. They saw in one another something that was worthy of love and admiration and it was a balm to the souls of each. They might laugh and tease each other for certain faults but their love would remain constant for the rest of their lives and each took comfort in knowing that their loneliness was finally at an end.

In the latter part of November the Bingleys moved into Plumtree, an estate three times the size of Netherfield with a grand old house they had both fallen in love with. Charles was now officially a gentleman farmer. He had been instructed years ago by Darcy that if he ever bought an estate and found a wife who would be his life's companion he could begin his own dynasty and his friend's words had never left him. It had been a great start with Netherfield but he was now prepared to work diligently to keep his promise to his father and make his own dreams a reality. Happily situated half-way between the Darcy and Postelwaite estates, Plumtree would be the seat of many happy reunions in the coming years and he imagined their children growing healthy and wise with the help of family and friends.

Caroline Bingley had left Netherfield Park full of anger, sorrow and humiliation. Not used to soul searching, the novelty of questioning her own motives proved beyond her for the first few months of her exile. She preferred to believe that others were culpable for the way her life had turned to ashes and it took her many months before she was able to begin the healing process. She got little help from her aunt Estelle who had gotten slightly senile and who had to reminded every d morning just who this interloper was. But she proved to be a kind and gracious hostess and hardly ever remarked on the plumes her guest wore at breakfast.

Left alone with no one with a modicum of sense to impress with well-known names and all the fancy balls she had attended in Town Caroline was left to stroll the gardens visiting and re-visiting the wasted years. She had first seen Fitzwilliam Darcy at the theater where his exceptionally tall, fine figure had drawn her attention along with every other female in the audience. The whispers describing his wealth and his estate in Derbyshire were interesting but meant little more to her. She was a tradesman's daughter and he had a place in the highest level of society. Then one day her brother brought this paragon home and introduced him as a good friend and life would never be the same. Knowing him had opened all the doors to society and she began to think very well of herself. And why not? One of the most desirable men in England danced and dined with her and invited her to his fabled estate for divine summers in his company.

She had been warned time and again not to look too high but how could she not with all that wealth and beauty before her. She had closed her eyes to the truth. All the money she had spent so recklessly on the latest fashions...all her sharpened wit had all been for naught for it wasn't her station in life that kept him from offering for her, it was the woman herself. It was a terrible blow to her ego. It wasn't that he didn't love her. It was worse. He didn't even like her. Her shame was complete with this realization and she wanted to hide from the world that had witnessed her fall from grace.

But life must go on and she soon learned that she still had a value in society as long as it wasn't London Society. Here in Shropshire she was looked upon with awe for her aristocratic carriage and her veneer of quiet repose for there were still remnants of her pride remaining and she would not allow this new world to see the broken woman lying beneath the mask. With her low spirits she had no difficulty in keeping up these pretensions and hardly knowing that her life was in the midst of this drastic change began to take a semblance of comfort with this new persona.

Eventually she awoke one morning with a new awareness and spent the rest of the day reflecting on the irony of her situation. She had arrived feeling the shame of her personal failure and terrified of her future and now it seemed that for several weeks she had been living her future. Shropshire society had accepted her as what she pretended to be; a gentlewoman above reproach who never had an unkind word to say and easily forgave the foibles of others. She supposed that if she continued her deceits the false would someday blend with the real and one day she might get to know the real Caroline Bingley.

There is little to say about the Hursts. They were never fortunate to have children so raised dogs instead and lived happily ever after.

Margaret Nederfeldt took up residence at Netherfield two weeks before Christmas. By then Mr. Bennet knew who owned the estate and he couldn't decide whether he was excited or uneasy but finally settled on both. It had been five months since he had seen her and his mind kept running around in circles wondering why she hadn't told him that she would be his neighbor. He had finally concluded that she didn't want to excite his expectations. They were, after all, just acquaintances who had enjoyed each other''s company for a month. With that thought in mind, the day before she arrived he went to London where he stayed at the Darcy townhouse for a full week before returning to Longbourn. The following morning he rode to Netherfield at a leisurely pace. He would show a pleased delight in meeting her again but nothing more. He would not have her thinking that he had been pining for her for the past five months.

When he was admitted to the drawing room she stood and greeted him with a gentle smile, "and so we meet again, Thomas."

"So it would seem, Margaret."

Margaret settled very nicely into Hertfordshire society for she dearly loved to entertain and did so with great frequency entertaining her fellow citizens with feasts that tread that fine line between excellence and ostentation. Her neighbors were always delighted to receive one of her invitations and neither by nudge nor wink did any guest let on that they knew that Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Nederfeldt were more than good friends.

In the early stages of their romance they showed great discretion never ceding good taste for wanton behavior. Their deportment was above reproach which meant separate carriages to Town followed by a single carriage along country roads seeking out quaint country inns where they wined and dined and blew the candles out with great frequency and unbridled joy.

Eventually and with great humor they came to accept that their secret was no longer a secret. Nevertheless, Margaret and Thomas continued to escape Meryton regularly for several years enjoying the excitement of renewed youth and passion. Only once had he brought up the subject of marriage which she refused citing the complications that English law would impose on her. She was a woman of great wealth and her heir was her son, Jonathon. She would not jeopardize his inheritance by ceding her independence to a husband. He could not quarrel with this decision and the matter was dropped never to rise again. Neither could have guessed as the stood facing each other on that first day at Netherfield that fate had stepped in to chart a new course that would remain steady and true and that it would endure for the rest of their lives. Though they would never marry, their love affair lasted until his death a quarter of a century later.

Richard and Anne settled in their Townhouse and he took up his duties as a General in His Majesty's Army. Before his marriage to Anne the thought of sitting at a desk all day was too onerous to contemplate but as spring followed winter he soon found that leading a settled life had advantages especially when he could always drop into his townhouse unexpectedly. He thought they might name their first child Elevenses though his beloved thought too many questions might arise with such an unusual name.

Naturally, Anne had to share this tidbit with Elizabeth who choked on her morning coffee as she read this outlandish idea which in turn, alarmed Darcy who was sure his beloved wife was having a fit. His reaction sent Elizabeth into further gales of laughter and she was unable to keep him from taking Anne's letter and reading it.

"I don't know which cousin I should speak to," he pronounced. "They're incorrigible. And don't get any ideas, Elizabeth. There will be no Darcy called Daybreak or Teatime at Pemberley."

Richard's brother Edmund and his wife Juliet shared no such levity concerning their future offspring. Though Pemberley had worked it's magic on their troubled marriage it could only do so much. They came to accept their choices and now had only to learn how to live with it. He had enriched the family with his wife's money and she had gained a title which would raise her status in society. Never again would Juliet mention divorce and Edmund promised never to take a mistress. He stopped drinking excessively except for an occasional lapse and she eschewed liquor altogether until her mid-wife gave her several nips of brandy during the birth of her third child. She found that brandy could sooth all kinds of pain and from then on was never without a flask of that fiery panacea.

Elizabeth was in awe of how all their lives had changed in less than two years. "Husband," she remarked one day, "God has been very good to us."

"Don't forget the part that your first boyfriend had in our happiness."

"If you are referring to Mr. Collins, my love, I must protest."

"Think on it Lizzy. If your cousin hadn't waddled into Longbourn in search of a bride which eventually brought you to Rosing's Park we might never had met."

"You forget that Charles had already leased Netherfield and was half in love with Jane by the time we met. And have you forgotten that Charles and Peter were good friends from school so it was natural for Charles to invite Peter to Netherfield. Or that Charlotte was such a good friend of the family so it was natural for her to visit us when Charles and Peter called upon us. And not to be overlooked was your kindness to Jonathon which led to your friendship with his mother which led you to send father to Edinburgh where he fell in love with Margaret."

"Good grief!" Darcy sighed, "as usual your thinking is much too convoluted for me."

"We can further discuss it during our elevenses. In our room perhaps?"

"We can have our biscuits and coffee in our room if you wish, but there will be no Darcy named Elevenses at Pemberley."

The heir to Pemberley entered the world the following summer and was named William Colin Darcy followed moments later by Willa Coleen Darcy to their parent's shock and delight for twins were not known in their families. They supposed this phenomenon was a result of so many morning and afternoon snacks in the privacy of their rooms.

In the next five years family and friends populated England with another seven children making their gatherings noisy affairs and their sires bragging rights for the beauty and cleverness of their offspring. Kitty married David Sutcliffe and would one day become the mistress of the Sutcliffe estate and though that event was far in the future his parents were generous enough to purchase a townhouse for the newly-weds where they settled down. During the final two weeks of Kitty's first confinement, Georgiana stayed with her to lend her support. There she met Jonathon Nederfeldt for the first time. It was not love at first sight but he intrigued her with his quiet ways so reminiscent of her brother. Their courtship lasted for the better part of two years before Darcy gave his permission for their marriage at last convinced that it was a true love match and he would make his sister happy.

On the morning of her eighth anniversary Elizabeth spent a delicious two hours strolling the thoroughfare leisurely shopping for last minute items enjoying the bright autumn day. In the morning they would begin their trip back to Pemberley to begin preparations for the Christmas season. She'd picked up several boxes of the specially wrapped chocolate and raspberry truffles that were her husband's favorite, brought two silk scarves and a new pair of fine leather gloves. When she left the book shop with a dozen assorted books to bring back to Pemberley her shopping list was complete. Still she was loathe to return to her townhouse just yet. It was too beautiful a day to spend indoors.

Years earlier she had come upon a tiny shop off the main thoroughfare in a little cul-de-sac. At the time they had sold little trinkets of gold, silver and painted enamels that made novel gifts for her family and friends. Unfortunately they went out of business the following year, replaced by a nondescript haberdashery which in turn was followed by a florist that sold day-old blooms. After that Elizabeth gave up on finding anything of value not on the main street.

On a whim she decided to visit the tiny shop just to see how it had fared...or even if it still stood. She gave directions for her driver to follow her as she wandered further along the street before turning into the cul-de-sac. To her surprise the shop was still there but she hardly recognized it. It was no longer the nondescript little shop of her memory but had expanded into a respectable store with a glass front advertising it's wares of lady's lingerie. Elizabeth was slightly shocked at the boldness of displaying such intimate apparel in it's front window but it piqued her curiosity. She was no stranger to such apparel; for years she had been purchasing such items on every trip she made to Paris. Darcy certainly never needed an incentive to whet his appetite for her; there were times she thought their desire for each other was positively indecent though a great deal of fun. With a mental shrug she entered the shop hoping she might find something unique.

The shop was obviously doing well for itself as there were at least two dozen patrons milling about examining the garments displayed on a line of mannequins. Others were talking to fevered saleswoman who were rushing about trying to attend to several customers at once. Elizabeth headed straight for a black headless mannequin dressed in the flimsiest garment she had ever seen. Held up with the thinest straps it barely reached mid-thigh and had no pantaloons. The cloth had been woven of lavender and gold threads as delicate as a spider's web and just as translucent. Holding the fabric in her hands she imagined fairies in their gossamer wings working on the delicate fabric just to please her and she knew instantly that she had to have it no matter the cost.

While she waited for a sales woman's attention she glanced around the shop hoping not to see anyone she knew for gossip was the common coin of the Ton and she preferred not to be seen purchasing such an erotic pleasure...not that she cared that much. After all, it wasn't for her...it was for Darcy. The thought brought a smile to her face just as her eyes lighted on a vaguely familiar middled aged woman of coarse features who seemed out of place in a boutique selling such dainty garments. She was seated at a desk on a raised dais watching the proceedings below with a sharp eye...obviously the owner...but Elizabeth could not put a name to her face and she was disconcerted when those sharp eyes lit on her. Embarrassed to be caught staring, she offered an apologetic smile and turned back to the counter and sampled some of the exotic scents displayed there, finally choosing a miniature vial of heavy musk which did not suit her but would serve her purpose. To further her amusement she also selected a wide gold bangle. By the time she placed her order and saw it being put in a colorful box she had grown anxious to be on her way. Tea time was approaching and Darcy would be waiting for her.

She picked up the box hardly glancing at it's gaudy pink and turned from the counter only to see the woman who looked so familiar, regarding her from no more than ten feet away. Surprised, Elizabeth nodded politely and turned away. She had not taken more than a few steps before her mind caught up with her eyes and she looked closely at the box reading the name of the shop boldly printed in bright pink colors. She almost dropped the box in surprise as she swung around and once more stared at the woman who returned her gaze with a wry smile. Recognition came slowly as her memories pushed away nearly a decade of time. Elizabeth could hardly remember the last time she had given anything but a passing thought to Lydia. She had never given any credence to the possibility that Lydia had run off with George Wickham that second time. It had never made any sense that such a man would come creeping around in the dead of night to abscond with a girl who had absolutely nothing to give him which she had not already bestowed on him during their sojourn in London. If she followed that reasoning, then where had Lydia been and why so silent for all those years?

In the beginning and for months after, Elizabeth had imagined so many scenarios of how they might meet and what they would say to each other but now that the moment was here she found she had nothing to say to this sister who had caused such chaos in her family and had broken her mother's heart. That she would revert to her father's pet name and call this establishment "Tammy's Place" was like pouring salt into the wound and she was not inclined to forgive Lydia.

Shortly after her marriage Georgiana had casually mentioned how her brother and cousin Richard had left Rosing's Park for London the day after Elizabeth returned to Longbourn. Almost as an afterthought, Georgiana added that she had given her brother the Gardiner address in Gracechurch street in case they found Lydia.

It had taken Elizabeth quite a while to pull all the pieces together and form at least one possibility. She remembered how Anne had once described her husband as a master of disguise. It had been said in jest but Elizabeth with Georgie's information had often wondered if Richard had been the ruffian who had taken Lydia away from that seedy hotel and brought her to the Gardiner home. And if so, how had he disposed of Wickham? That villain had so many connections to Pemberley and Lambton as well as the army yet in all those years he had never made an appearance nor had his name ever once surfaced. Now standing so close to this woman all Elizabeth really wanted to know was where George Wickham was? And that was a question that would never be asked either of Lydia nor her husband for fear of an answer.

She opened the door, then once more turned for a last look at her sister remembering the undisciplined child of her youth. Lydia was no longer the young maiden of Elizabeth's memory. Time and the life she had been living had taken it's toll. She had not aged gracefully. Her waist had thickened and her lips had thinned into a tight line. Her eyes no longer held the promise of good humor and a lively disposition. She had grown old before her time and the essence of the young girl who had fled in the night seeking her lover was nowhere to be seen. Elizabeth was staring at a stranger. And stranger she would remain. Families were bound by the histories they shared and it had been a lifetime since her youngest sister had vanished in the night never giving a thought to the destruction she left in her wake.

Perhaps if she could have seen a glimmer of sorrow or a plea for understanding in Lydia's eyes their meeting might have turned out differently but there was only a silent appraisal with no expectation or anticipation. Not a word was exchanged as both women waited for the other to speak. Finally, and with no regret, Elizabeth stepped out of the shop and only with one last moment of hesitation, she boarded her carriage and ordered her driver to take her home.

That night Elizabeth took a large gulp of wine trying to compose herself but failed miserably for she simply could not contain her amusement at the spectacle she was about present. She slipped the bangle onto her upper arm, then smoothed on a liberal dose of musk on every spot she thought she had pulse hoping she wouldn't asphyxiate her unsuspecting husband. Slipping on her new purchase she viewed herself in the mirror and smothered a laugh. There was only one thing left to do. She bent over and threw her hair over her face running her fingers through the tangled curls before applying her brush in long strokes. At last satisfied she tossed her hair back and once more stared at her reflection. Daringly she raised her arms and was almost undone. She looked like a savage.

Taking several deep breaths she willed her body to quieten then blew the candle out and took another quick sip of wine before slipping into his room closing the door gently behind her and stood silent waiting for him to sense her presence.

He was sitting in his easy chair idly staring at the fire, two glasses of rich brandy on the table beside him. The room was shadowed in intimacy as she watched him smile in his sweet repose, wondering not for the first time just what was passing through his mind. It was just such a smile that she would see sometimes when she lifted her eyes from a book or caught him staring at her from across a ballroom. In the stillness she waited patiently filling her eyes with his beauty feeling the love she felt for him wash over her, still with that intensity which had the power to make her knees grow weak. Finally she broke her silence, "what makes you smile so?"

He looked up in surprise barely making her out in the near darkness "come into the light, my love." She stepped forward into a lighter shadow allowing him to see her more clearly. For a moment he seemed to be transfixed. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened in shock and disbelief followed quickly with utter merriment . She raised her arms high and began to undulate slowly towards him humming a nameless tune watching his eyes travel down her body and stop briefly at the triangle of curls between her thighs before slowly allowing his eyes to travel down to her bare feet then up again to her face. "Are you succubus," he managed.

"Well, I'm certainly not my brother incubus."

His grin broadened, "no, you certainly are not your brother. So tell me Miss Succubus, why are you here? Not to tempt me, I hope. I'm a married man and there are rules I look upon as inviolate."

"I am not of this world. Rules mean nothing to me."

"And why have you left your world?"

"The men there have no organs of pleasure."

He threw his head back choking with laughter. "So how do you create little succubuses?"

"Twit! It's Succubi, and do be serious or I'll send you to my world."

"You would remove my organ of pleasure?"

She stared pointedly at his breeches which had already tightened considerably, "I might have been too hasty," she allowed

"If you need to castrate someone, you might consider a visit to your boyfriend, Mr. Collins. With four daughters he's on the brink of a nervous breakdown and could use the vacation."

"Leave my boyfriend out of this, I beg you." Elizabeth regarded him with a look she hoped would pass for a wanton leer but by the growing twinkle in his eyes she feared she had missed the mark completely. She reached for the glass of brandy and took a large drink before straddling him. She pressed his head back and lowered her mouth to him, insinuating a curled tongue into his mouth allowing the fiery liquid to trickle into his mouth while she began to unbutton his breeches.

"Now what are you doing?"

"Releasing you from your bondage."

Her soft hand on his bare and sensitive flesh sent an electric jolt through him and he groaned, "be gentle with me."

"Relax. This won't hurt a bit." She never took her eyes off him as she slipped him into her taking him deep inside before she began to withdraw in an enticing move that brought them both waves of pleasure. She continued the gentle rhythm, kissing his closed lids and taking his mouth in hers until she sensed his quickening breath and felt his body begin to constrict. She stopped, "oh no you don't" she warned. "This dress cost you three acres of prime land, and I expect to get my money's worth."

He threw his head back laughing and writhing for control, calling out her name until she took mercy on him and once more brought him to the edge before slipping one thin strap off her shoulder to reveal one breast which she offered to him. He reacted greedily causing their movements to become spasmodic and convulsive sending them both into that dark abyss where nothing is felt but pure rapture.

Much later when their breathing returned to normal Darcy held his wife in a tight embrace, his hands moving over the soft contours of her body, "you've brought me such joy, Lizzie," he murmured, nuzzling her neck.

"It's been quite a journey."

"You should write a book."

She laughed softly at the absurdity of such a suggestion, "what kind of book?"

"A love story, of course."

Where would I begin?"

"When you first met the hero."

"My story began months before I met my hero. First I had to awaken on a cold November morning wondering where my hero was."

"Then you met your hero."

"No, Sweetheart. Mr. Collins didn't show up for another month."

"Hussy!"

Elizabeth leaned back in her husbands arms, regarding him with a sweet smile, "I loved you all my life. I just didn't know your name or that you would turn out to be so pretty."

"So you finally met your hero. And he was tall, dark and handsome, just what every hero should be."

"Yes, William, I finally met my hero. And he took me away to his kingdom and we begot little Will and Willa."

"Ah, the best part of the story."

"Enough of this. We have a long journey ahead of us in the morning."

"But this is the best part of the story."

She snuggled against him, "take me to bed, sweetheart."

He obeyed and gently lifted her in his arms before laying her down in their bed and carefully tucking her in. He stood looking down at this remarkable woman remembering his first sight of her. She had been so very beautiful in her lilac gown, laughing at the players on the stage, never guessing that the curtain had begun to rise on their own drama. All the sets were in place, all the actors assembled. Fools, villains and buffoons made their entrances performing their parts with expertise while the amateur lovers performed so poorly. What a play it had been with such high drama and low comedy walking hand in hand with joy and despair.

"Come to bed, my love," she murmured.

He shed his clothing and climbed into bed allowing her to snuggle close to him and kiss him goodnight before she could sleep. He held her gently, making them both comfortable, before giving her his last kiss of the day. Then he blew the candle out.

THE END


End file.
